


What Could Possibly Go Wrong?

by Lycaonpictus77



Series: for Having Wept in the Darkness [2]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Adora Has Issues (She-Ra), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Catra Has Issues (She-Ra), F/F, Good Parent Angella (She-Ra), Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Let Catra (She-Ra) Say Fuck, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Adora (She-Ra), POV Catra (She-Ra), Shadow Weaver | Light Spinner (She-Ra)'s A+ Parenting, no time for therapy we need to go on a road trip stat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:08:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 37,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25793395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lycaonpictus77/pseuds/Lycaonpictus77
Summary: After a bewildering encounter with her future-self, Catra is floundering to figure out how she fits into Adora's new life. Thrown into a rescue mission with little time to prepare, she does her best to find her feet--and survive the perils of Beast Island.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Series: for Having Wept in the Darkness [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1871170
Comments: 155
Kudos: 744





	1. War Rooms

Catra couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this comfortable. Her bed felt softer than usual, her blanket warmer, and the annoying, ever-present metallic scent of her quarters had lessened to the point that she couldn’t even smell it. It was like she’d been sedated, but without the accompanying pain or confusion.

She tucked her chin a little closer to her shoulder, dimly aware of the purr humming through her chest. Whatever. If she was drugged or something, she’d deal with it later. She was way too comfortable to investigate. Let Adora worry about it. 

… Oh.

Right. 

Okay, so if this was how all the beds in Bright Moon were, she could kind of see why Adora put up with the rest of its… everything. 

She swept her tail out and back as a probe, an exploratory mission. Adora was in fact _in_ this bed, half-curled on her side and probably drooling everywhere, Catra scant inches from her calves. 

Catra had stolen the blanket at some point, cocooned in warmth and Adora’s scent. It was a wonder that hadn’t been the first thing she registered on waking, but it had been natural, not so long ago, to wake up to the smell of sleep and fabric and Adora.

“Hey Adora, have you seen C--oh.” 

Catra leapt out of bed, hissing, still tangled in her pilfered blanket, as Glimmer appeared in a shower of magic sparkles with _no_ warning. 

“Mmn?” said Adora, having sat up as abruptly as Catra had hurled herself from the bed but apparently relaxing much quicker, squinting her eyes against the afternoon light. “Glimmer?” 

“Yeah, sorry,” said Glimmer, grinning at Catra over the edge of the mattress. She narrowed her eyes in response. “I was looking for Catra, I didn’t realize you guys were both in here. Did you fall asleep?” 

“I was haunted by the ghost of bullshit yet to come all night,” said Catra, unlatching her claws from the bedframe. “I’m allowed to nap.” 

“And _I_ got haunted--uh--okay, I was trying to break into the prison all night, but I’m also allowed to nap,” said Adora, rubbing her eyes. “Why do you need Catra?” 

“Well I need both of you, but I started with her in case she’d decided to escape.” 

“Escape? Am I a prisoner?” asked Catra, shucking the blanket and stretching luxuriously as she climbed back onto the bed. “Thought you learned that lesson the hard way, Sparkles.” 

“Really? You want to remind me of that right now?” Glimmer asked flatly. “Kidnapping you was literally worse than being kidnapped _by_ you.” 

“Glimmer, you were cursed,” said Adora.

“Please,” said Catra, pressing a hand dramatically to her heart. “You don’t think I could be worse than a Shadow Weaver curse? Have a little faith, Adora.”

“You’re not a prisoner,” said Glimmer, glaring at her. “Yet. Just because my mom agreed doesn’t mean you’re getting off that easy. I’ve got my eye on you, Catra.”

“Well hey, enjoy the view,” she purred, slumping backwards onto Adora, who groaned and shifted so that she slid off her torso, though she still landed half in Adora’s lap. Victory. 

“What did you need us for?” Adora asked Glimmer, pointedly ignoring Catra. 

“Right, okay. Mom wants to convene in the war room and work out a plan.”

“What, now?” drawled Catra. “I dunno, my schedule is _packed.”_

“Not optional,” said Glimmer, scowling. “On your feet, Horde scum.” 

She considered staying there, or planting her feet on the ground without standing from the bed, but Adora made the decision for her when she got up, dumping Catra from her lap. 

She landed in a crouch, scoffing as she straightened up as if she’d known it would happen all along, and crossed her arms over her chest in a deliberate show of nonchalance. 

Glimmer clapped a hand on her shoulder and teleported them. 

“Hoaugh,” said Catra, swaying dangerously as they rematerialized in an enormous room dominated by a war table. Huge murals adorned the walls, doubtless princess propaganda, but she couldn’t really look at them; everything was blurry. 

“Sorry,” said Glimmer, audibly smug. 

Catra batted Adora’s hands from her arms, where they’d caught her on some instinct she would have thought buried by now. She didn’t want support right now, not in a war room. Not in _this_ war room. 

The other princesses, at least, seemed to be absent. It was just them, the queen, Bow, and what Catra was _pretty_ sure was their general. The chairs had been pushed back, making space for them to circle the table as needed.

“Your Majesty,” said the probably-general, staring straight at Catra, “I understand that this is a lot to take in, but should we really just allow Catra of all people to wander the halls like this? No guards?” 

“Glimmer has vouched for her,” said Angella, also turning to look at Catra. She, at least, seemed more contemplative than openly hostile. “And I can’t pretend I wasn’t moved by the morning’s… revelations. I believe we should extend her an opportunity to prove herself.” 

Catra’s ears flicked forward before she could stop them. She could prove herself--she _would_ prove herself. There was no precedent here, no Shadow Weaver to insist she’d failed despite matching Adora’s scores. There probably weren’t even scores. If she was going to be stuck in the Rebellion, she was _not_ going to be doing grunt work like some kind of Kyle.

“Okay, well, I didn’t _vouch_ for her,” said Glimmer. “I just--future-Adora did, and I trust Adora, so…” 

“I trust her, Your Majesty,” said Adora. Catra glanced at her, surprised in spite of herself. She was smiling softly back. 

“Adora, she tried to _kill you!”_ Glimmer protested.

“Oh, did not,” said Catra, making a face at her. “Come on, if I wanted her dead, she’d be dead. Now, _maimed_ a little...” 

“Catra, you’re not helping,” Adora sighed. “And Glimmer… look, I haven’t just forgiven her for everything. But that doesn’t mean I don’t trust her. I _know_ Catra, and I know she wouldn’t do all this just to capture us or spy or whatever.” 

Catra smirked at Glimmer, standing up a little straighter. Take that, Sparkles.

“Let’s not think of it as trusting Catra,” said Bow, though he smiled at her reassuringly as he said it. She narrowed her eyes. “Let’s think of it as trusting Adora, okay?” 

“Ugh, fine,” Glimmer groaned. “Can we get to planning already?” 

“The other princesses have been notified,” said Angella, apparently used to the ‘Best Friend Squad’’s digressions. “But we cannot afford to wait for them. The most pressing issue is that we don’t actually know the _location_ of this ‘Beast Island’. We need to determine it before we can mount a rescue mission of any size, but our only leads are whispers in old legends.” 

“My dads may have some theories,” Bow suggested eagerly. “They have lots of stuff on First Ones’ legends. Some of their research is uh, theoretical, but with Adora translating we might be able to figure something out.” 

“Hm,” said Catra, leaning over the table. She trailed her claws through the hologram, disrupting the projections of mountains. “You’re all ignoring the obvious solution.” 

“And what would that be?” asked the probably-general, voice icy. 

“We make a pit stop in the Fright Zone.” 

“Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa,” said Glimmer. “Come _on,_ Catra! You _just_ got here, you can’t seriously expect us to trust you to--what? Stop in and ask directions?” 

Catra rolled her eyes. “Please. I won’t need to. You heard old-me this morning: Beast Island is _covered_ in First Ones’ tech. Hordak’s been sending us out after it so he can build his little pet project--or portal, I guess. Even if old-me talked him out of that, he’s not going to say no to an island’s worth of tech; it’s how Entrapta powers all the weapons.”

“Wait, so, you want--you want to lie to Hordak?” asked Adora, gesturing like she was trying to slow Catra down. Catra scowled at her. 

“Oh, come on Adora. It’d hardly be the first time. And he was going to send me to the Crimson fucking Waste yesterday--I am _not_ letting that shut-in get the better of me. Just give me ten minutes with the guy and I’ll get us directions, transport, _and_ Entrapta and Scorpia. Two more princesses for your little ‘Alliance’.”

“So you want to rescue my dad _alone?”_ Glimmer demanded, like an idiot.

“That’s not happening,” said Adora, before Catra even opened her mouth. “You want us to wait outside the Fright Zone while you get things squared away, right? Not happening.” 

Catra groaned. “Adora, come on. If anyone sees _any_ of you--”

“Then we’ll wear disguises,” said Adora, her jaw tightening. Great. She was putting her foot down. “I--look, I just got you back. I can’t--I don’t want you to _lie to Hordak_ without backup. It isn’t safe.” 

“I’m inclined to agree,” said Angella, looking between them with concern. “You girls are too young to have seen the things Hordak accomplished in the field, but he isn’t simply a ‘shut-in’. You will not face him alone, and that’s final.”

“Oh, whatever, that was forever ago. I won’t even have to fight him! He still thinks I’m going to aid his return to glory or whatever the fuck,” said Catra, waving her hand dismissively. “And your crack team here _sucks_ at disguises. Even if I give them all the access codes, they can’t act for shit. It’s safer if it’s just me.” 

“Where are you going to tell him you’ve been?” Adora pressed. “Where your badge went? If he saw your location before it was destroyed, he’ll think you’re in league with us.”

Catra paused. That… was a good point. 

“Take me in,” Adora went on, “as a prisoner. Glimmer can get me out of a cell without arousing any suspicions that you’re a traitor, at least for long enough to extract whoever you think will come with us.” 

“Adora, no,” said Bow, face creased with concern. “What if he doesn’t want to take you prisoner? What if he just kills you?” 

“I’ll have the sword,” said Adora, patting her vambrace, the runestone glowing slightly at the contact. “And besides, he’s way too showy for that. He’ll make it a big public execution. Right, Catra?” 

“Ugh, probably. He’ll be like ‘it doesn’t matter how strong or magic you are, a defector is a defector’ or some shit,” she grumbled. “I don’t like it. Bow’s right, it’s risky. If I can just come up with a cover story--”

“You’re not going in there alone,” Adora interrupted. “I’m not--I won’t leave you again. If he hurt you, I...” 

Catra looked at her, breath catching in her throat as Adora stared her down, the picture of determination. It was stupid, she knew it was stupid, she _knew_ it would be better for everyone if she went in there by herself. There were fewer variables, fewer steps that could go wrong, but… 

She could still remember gasping breaths with no relief, her vision darkening at the edges as she slipped nearer to unconsciousness. Hordak looming over her, calling her pathetic. 

“I wouldn’t forgive myself,” Adora finished, breaking eye contact to look down at her own hands. “I couldn’t. I need to be there. Please, Catra.”

It just felt so fucking nice to hear that she didn’t have to face it by herself. Not because Adora thought she was weak, but because _Adora_ was weak, and scared, and needed to assure herself of Catra’s safety. 

Old-Catra had said that Adora had always tried to protect them, growing up, but part of Catra hadn’t believed it until this moment. She’d never protected Catra in a way that mattered, that would get her on Shadow Weaver’s bad side, but… 

She’d been so angry at Shadow Weaver, that morning. Angrier than Catra had ever seen her, even when they’d been actively fighting. Maybe she could do it this time. Maybe it was enough that she was willing to try.

“Whatever,” she said finally. “But we’re gagging you. You can’t lie for shit either.” 

Adora laughed as she relaxed, tension flooding from her shoulders. “I know.” 

“So you take Adora to the Fright Zone--as a prisoner--” said Glimmer, rubbing her temples with both hands, “you walk right up to Hordak, lie to his face, throw Adora in prison, and walk out. Then _I_ get Adora out of there and we all rescue my dad?” 

“I don’t like it,” said Angella, frowning down at the hologram. “There are too many pieces, too many factors. If Glimmer were captured, we’d lose her _and_ Adora at the least. We need contingencies.” 

“This is already way more developed than our usual plans!” Bow pointed out unhelpfully, smiling up at her. “Improvisation is our specialty.” 

“That’s not going to cut it,” Catra said sharply. “Not if you want to just waltz into the Fright Zone. Or have you forgotten what happened last time you tried?” 

Bow winced, shrinking in on himself. 

“Having me on your side is a huge advantage,” she said, watching the hologram shift as Angella zoomed in on the Fright Zone, “but with only one-and-a-half princesses, we’re outgunned _and_ outnumbered. If any of you are discovered, we’re screwed.” 

“All the more reason for Adora to be ‘captured’,” said Glimmer.

“Hey!” said Adora. “I can be stealthy!” 

“Much as I hate to admit it, she’s right,” said Catra. “Adora and I spent our whole lives sneaking around the Fright Zone. Not that any of those skills transferred to the real world, in her case, but if it were just a matter of busting in and out she could pull it off.” 

“Maybe Glimmer should be the hostage instead,” said Bow, frowning. “I’m next stealthiest, and Glimmer could get you out just as easily if something goes wrong.” 

“No way,” Adora cut in immediately. “Hordak wouldn’t believe it. Does he even know you need to recharge your powers?” 

“Ooh. Yeah. My bad,” said Catra, wincing. “Kind of had to include it in the report to explain why I let myself be captured.” 

“Adora is also more familiar with Horde tactics,” said Angella, countering Glimmer’s swelling outrage with a flat stare. “She’d know better when to intervene in a meeting between Hordak and a Force Captain, and Glimmer, we all know you wouldn’t be able to resist attacking him outright.” 

“If we take him out _now,_ we could dismantle the entire Horde!” she protested.

“No, we’d create a power vacuum,” said Adora, though she looked just as unhappy about it. “The Horde is all about hierarchy. If we could end this by just killing Hordak, we’d be leading way more assaults.” 

“But we have Catra,” Glimmer argued. “If the second-in-command stages a coup, the rest of the Horde would follow, right?” 

Catra laughed in spite of herself. “As if! I’m not exactly a beloved figurehead, Sparkles. Even with backup, I’d have to fight my way through most of the soldiers and every other Force Captain just to make it out of there alive.”

“Surely they can recognize your contributions?” asked Angella, raising an eyebrow. “The Horde has never done so much damage to our cause in so short a time before, even with She-Ra’s aid.” 

Catra’s laugh grew a little darker, a little quieter. “We’re four times more efficient, according to Entrapta. We’ve gained new territory, built bigger and badder bots, hell, we staged an invasion of Bright Moon itself! But…” 

But it didn’t matter what she’d done, what she was capable of. Hordak was going to throw her away to die in the Crimson Waste. The other soldiers hated her, the Force Captains resented her, Shadow Weaver… Shadow Weaver. 

“Morale is down,” she said finally, rubbing her wrist with one hand. “Nobody cares if the Horde would be stronger with me in charge. They hate me way more than they care about winning.” 

“I’m--I’m sure they don’t _all_ hate you,” Bow said awkwardly. 

“Yeah,” said Catra. “Scorpia doesn’t. And Entrapta--well, okay, she’s too busy with her tech shit most of the time to have an opinion on anybody, but she doesn’t actively hate my guts so I’m counting it. That’s why we’re getting them out, too.” 

“Aw, Catra, do you care about people?” asked Glimmer, smirking. 

_“No._ Shut up.” 

“You do! You made two whole friends!” 

“Allies. Useful pawns,” Catra insisted. 

“Wait… does that mean all three of your friends are princesses?” asked Bow, glancing speculatively at Adora.

“They’re not my friends!” 

“Come on Catra, you’re gonna hurt Adora’s feelings,” he said, pouting. He propped his chin up on Adora’s shoulder, hiding behind her to escape Catra’s glare. “Don’t you want to be besties again?” 

“Shut up!” she hissed again. She was definitely blushing. Ugh.

“If you please,” Angella said, mercifully cutting the interaction short. “Catra, how certain are you that they’ll be willing to defect? Entrapta has refused us before.” 

“Granted, her I’m iffy on,” said Catra, making a seesaw motion with her hand. “We’re gonna need to bribe her with something, which is why I think this Beast Island shit could be our ace in the hole. Why else would old-me have mentioned it?” 

“And Scorpia?” asked Glimmer. 

“Scorpia will come,” she said confidently. She was… _pretty_ sure. “She’s all about loyalty, and not the ‘to the cause’ kind. If I ask her to go, she’ll go.” 

Adora shifted uncomfortably beside her. 

“What?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Well--I thought the same thing about you,” Adora said, clearly uncomfortable. “And I mean--I get it, now, I just--are you _sure_ sure, or…?”

“I’m sure enough,” she said, shaking her head. “At the very least she wouldn’t stop me from leaving again or tell on me or whatever. I’m not planning on ditching her and joining up with the--oh fuck, I ditched her and joined the enemy.”

“At least you’re not magic?” said Adora, with a smile that was mostly grimace. 

At least she wasn’t covering for Catra to Shadow Weaver. At least Catra was aware of the basic realities of being in the Horde. At least Catra was going back for her. She shook her head again. 

“She’ll understand. It’s not like I’ll be treating her like shit next time I see her, anyway.” 

Adora winced, rubbing the back of her neck. Self-conscious. Defensive. Good. It meant she knew what she’d done wrong for once. 

Catra let her tail brush against Adora’s leg as a reward for realizing it, and from the warm smile she got in return, she thought Adora understood. 

“Are you sure you’re okay waiting here?” Glimmer asked her mother. 

“I don’t really have a choice,” said Angella, staring at the table with a far-off look in her eyes. “We can’t _both_ go, and loath as I am to admit it, your powers are far more useful in the field than mine.” 

“Not to mention, you’re like, eight feet tall,” Catra pointed out. “Kind of hard to hide if we’re going into the Fright Zone.” 

Angella didn’t respond, but her face tightened into something… yearning. 

“But why can’t we both go?” asked Glimmer, practically whining. “We should--we should be together.” 

“The queen _and_ the heir apparent can’t run off on the word of a Horde soldier,” said the general, scowling at Catra. “Just because she happens to have a kid in the future--” 

“Two kids!” Bow interjected. 

“--doesn’t mean we should trust her. Not with the fate of all of Bright Moon, and probably the Rebellion itself. Even with She-Ra willing to accept responsibility for her--look, Adora, I know you trust her, but your track record isn’t _great_ with figuring things like this out.” 

Adora flushed, starting to stammer something, but Catra cut her off. 

_“She-Ra_ isn’t responsible for me, asswipe. I’m responsible for myself. And Adora’s better at seeing through my bullshit than _any_ of you bozos.” 

“Really? Because she lets herself get separated from the bulk of the fighting every time you show up,” she shot back, bridling. “If I didn’t know her personally, I’d think it was on purpose!” 

“I’m--Juliet, I’m sorry--” Adora tried, but Catra stepped in front of her, creating a physical barrier between her and the probably-general.

“Spare me the rationalizations,” she hissed. “If you hate me, hate _me._ Don’t try and pretend like Adora should have known better or whatever the fuck you’re trying to suggest. And leave old-me’s kids out of it! Don’t fucking--don’t judge me based on her, because I’m never going to _be_ her, okay?” 

“Catra,” said Adora, stepping closer but not reaching out. 

“What? I’m not,” said Catra, desperately tamping down on the hurt and disappointment it made her feel. “You heard them. It’s already too late--we’ve diverged from their timeline. I’ll never--I won’t be--”

“You could be even happier,” said Bow, surprisingly steady from behind Adora. “She brought you here so you could do the right thing before she would’ve been ready to, right?” 

Catra shrugged, then nodded, looking away. Right. She had to be ‘good’. That probably meant not chewing out high-ranking members of her own side for having stupid opinions. 

“It doesn’t even matter,” she said, sheathing and unsheathing her claws. “Whether it’s true or not, the queen’s right. Beast Island is dangerous, and teleportation is way more versatile than… what is it you do, exactly?” 

Angella huffed a little, stretching her wings out in demonstration. “I can create and manipulate light through my connection to the Moonstone,” she explained. “I don’t share Glimmer’s ability to teleport, but my control is more precise.” 

“How precise?” asked Catra, leaning back towards the table. “Can you manipulate the light feeding people’s eyes?” 

“Can I blind someone, you mean? Or create illusions?” asked Angella. “Yes, temporarily. It requires an active effort on my part to maintain, but it is possible.” 

“So you’re like a non-evil Shadow Weaver,” said Catra. Angella scowled at the comparison, but didn’t disagree. “Without the lightning. Okay. Can these illusions do voices or anything?” 

“No. It’s purely visual,” said Angella. “Well--I can solidify them to a degree, but textures present a bit of a challenge. It’s more like touching stone; I tend to reserve that for shields or wards.” 

“Good to know,” said Catra, eyes darting over the projection of the Fright Zone. “No, we’re definitely better off with teleportation. Especially since Sparkles has experience working with this group.” 

“Yeah, but if we _both_ went we’d be twice as strong,” said Glimmer, outright pouting. 

“If we all die in a horrible explosion or some shit, better it only be one of you,” said Catra.

Angella flinched. 

“What?” asked Catra, raising an eyebrow. “Not ready for a little risk? A little danger? Your wife’s out there all by himself, Your _Majesty._ Either trust your kid won’t get herself blown up or leave him there.” 

“My--wife?” asked Angella. 

“You’re married, right?” asked Catra, glancing to Bow and Glimmer for confirmation. “You promised to look out for him.” 

“No, I understood the sentiment, I just--wife is for a married woman. Men are called husbands.” 

“Oh,” said Catra, blinking. “What the fuck? Why?” 

“They just are,” said Bow, shrugging. 

“That’s stupid. What if you’re not a man or a woman? Or what if you’re talking about more than one?” 

“Then the word is ‘spouse’,” said Glimmer.

Catra threw her hands in the air. “What the _fuck?_ Why do you need so many words for the same thing? They don’t even sound alike!” 

“Wait, so that means you marry a woman,” said Adora, grabbing her elbow excitedly, like they were discovering some fascinating new piece of information and Catra hadn’t only been attracted to one person in her entire life. 

“Yeah, no shit,” she huffed, unable to keep some of the fondness from leaking out. Ugh. This place was already making her go soft. She had to bring this back on track. “We need to talk logistics. We probably want a way to signal you that Adora’s in place, because it would be suspicious as all fuck if you didn’t bust in until after I left. Do you know where the prison is, or should I draw you a map?” 

“The place Shadow Weaver kept us?” Glimmer asked uncertainly, rubbing her arms. 

“No,” Adora said quickly, shaking her head. “No, that’s--that was _her_ room. They’ll probably just put me in a regular cell.” 

“Well, since Shadow Weaver busted loose he might not be too keen on putting a full-on princess in one,” said Catra, grimacing. “Maybe the signal should be verbal, so we can confirm she’s in the expected location.” 

“I have some portable communication devices that could work!” said Bow. “They operate on a different frequency than the Horde’s, although Entrapta could probably detect that there _was_ a signal. And crack it, knowing her.” 

“How long do you think it would take her?” asked Glimmer. 

“She’d need a few transmissions for a sample size, so at least ten minutes if we keep things brief,” said Bow, shrugging. “And that’s only if she notices.” 

“Fine, good, whatever,” said Catra. “If things go wrong on our end, we’ll signal you to extract us. If things go wrong on your end, _run._ We aren’t there to fight anybody, and we can’t risk Glimmer getting captured.” 

“I must say, this is a refreshing change of pace from our usual meetings,” said Angella, smiling down at her. “I’m impressed.” 

Catra started, her claws disrupting the image of the foundry as she flexed them unconsciously. She stared up at Angella in shock she hadn’t the wherewithal to disguise. 

“Impressed?” she echoed incredulously. 

“You’re prioritizing individuals’ capabilities in a way that supports the mission, without letting yourself be biased by… shall we say, interpersonal relationships,” Angella explained, still smiling. “And you agreed to accept help within minutes! It took Adora weeks to even hear of it.” 

“I accept help all the time!” Adora protested, flushing.

“Adora, you may be the most determined person I’ve ever met,” said Angella, chuckling. “You care so deeply for your friends, but your resolve to keep them safe more often than not has you taking on more responsibility than any one person should bear.” 

Adora hesitated, and Catra knew her well enough to distinguish the confusion from the instinctive denial. She wasn’t going to just accept this; in Adora’s mind, she’d already been granted way too much help. 

“It’s been a privilege to watch you become more comfortable here,” Angella went on, “with us. To see you let Glimmer and Bow grow closer to you, to share some of that burden. I only hope you continue on that path, and allow yourself to rely on others, to trust in their abilities. I know it can be difficult to relinquish control, but as I’m sure Glimmer can attest, our efforts to protect the ones we love can become… stifling.” 

“Mom,” said Glimmer, looking ready to argue, but Angella silenced her with a raised hand. 

“Our approach to things is very different, Adora,” she said gently, “but I hope you know that I understand some of what you’re feeling. As, I’m sure, does Catra.” 

Catra blinked as the queen’s gaze returned to her, not quite recovered from the unexpected praise. “Me?” 

“Of course. You two grew up together, after all; I imagine there are few who know Adora better than you, if any. Your future self was very attentive to her needs this morning,” said Angella. A knowing little smile curved the corners of her mouth, and Catra’s back went ramrod straight, her ears flattening against her head. 

Oh, shit. 

Angella totally knew. 

Her eyes darted nervously to the other four members of their meeting, but none of them had that little twinkle in their eye, so maybe--maybe it was just her. 

Just the _queen,_ who was immortal and super tall and had magic _fucking_ powers--

“Uh-huh,” Catra squeaked. “Yep. She’s always been like this, you know, classic Adora.”

“It makes me feel a little better about the situation, knowing you’ll be able to keep each other safe,” said Angella, like it was obvious. Catra’s tail lashed nervously behind her. 

That was weird, right? That was a weird fucking thing to say to her. She shouldn’t give a shit about Catra, not _this_ Catra. Not the one who’d been breaking her shit and terrorizing her countryside for months and months. 

Was it pity? Because of what old-Catra had revealed? Or some kind of attempt at controlling her, luring her in with--with praise, and concern, and looking at her like she’d always wished Shadow Weaver would? 

Maybe it wasn’t even about her. Maybe Angella was banking on Catra and Adora ending up together in this timeline too, and she wanted to curry favor. Catra’s stomach swam with anxiety, but she didn’t let it show beyond folding her arms around herself, pretending to be engrossed in the hologram. 

She just had to be on her guard, that was all. If Angella was a threat, old-Catra would have said something. 

Unless Angella had successfully ingratiated herself to old-Catra, and simply hadn’t struck yet. Or had decided not to, when the war ended. But the war wasn’t over yet, and Catra was in Bright Moon, under Angella’s watchful eye, and she had this one golden chance to prove herself, to _not_ fuck things up--

A hand closed on her shoulder. She startled violently, barely biting back a hiss, but it was only Adora, trying to catch her eye. There had been a time Catra had thought she’d lost that sense for Adora’s emotions, when Adora was closed off behind a wall of disappointment and anger and… She-Ra-ness, but with Catra’s change in allegiance, it seemed to have melted away. She could see the feelings flickering across Adora’s face, hear the unspoken questions, plain as day. 

Concern. Reassurance. Support. _Are you okay?_ and _I’m here,_ and _I’ve got you._

Catra let the hand stay on her shoulder, which was answer enough. It was all she could bring herself to offer in front of the others. 

“I think we should head out first thing tomorrow,” Adora told Angella, looking away from Catra. “None of us have slept very well, and it will give us time to iron out the wrinkles.”

“We took a skiff to get here, so we won’t need any teleportation to get us to the Fright Zone,” said Catra, glancing at Glimmer. “Leave a little after morning moonrise?” 

“Sounds like a plan,” said Bow, nodding. Glimmer groaned, rubbing a gloved hand over her face like she was already exhausted. 

“Very well,” Angella agreed. “You’re all dismissed. I expect you to have covered a few more contingencies by dinner.” 

Adora turned on her heel, grinning at Catra. “Come on!” she said excitedly, grabbing her wrist and towing her from the room. “I’ll give you a tour!” 

“I wanna come!” said Bow, chasing after them. 

“Bow, you basically live here!” Glimmer protested, materializing a few feet ahead of them. “And Adora, you _barely_ do. If anyone should be giving tours, it’s me.” 

“Uh,” said Catra. “I mean, full offense Sparkles, but I don’t really want to be alone with you. Adora’s barely enough of a buffer as it is.”

 _“Clearly_ all three of us should take you,” said Bow, grinning. Catra’s ears folded back. “The full Best Friend Squad treatment!” 

“Can’t I just, like, go to jail?” she groaned.

“Okay, well, you can, but Shadow Weaver is in there and I don’t want to talk to her,” said Glimmer, “so have fun being _alone_ with her.”

“Oh, awesome. Hey, completely unrelated, can I borrow some weapons?” 

_“No_ torture!” said Bow, frowning. 

“Nobody said torture!” said Glimmer, grinning a little too innocently.

“This whole tour is going to be torture if you assholes have anything to say about it,” Catra grumbled. Adora bumped her shoulder in reprimand, staring at her disapprovingly. “Ugh, fine. Best Friend Squad treatment. I guess the punishment fits the war crime.” 

“Let’s start with the kitchens!” Adora said, lighting up. “I’ve been waiting to show you real food for _forever,_ come on--” 

Catra stumbled after her, dragged by the arm. Bow and Glimmer were hot on their heels, laughing at Adora’s eagerness but clearly just as excited. 

It was weird. It was all so weird, there was no reason for any of them to be putting up with her, to care about watching her eat or whether she was safe or _any_ of that. Why were they doing this? Adora she could almost understand; Adora was the most forgiving person she’d ever met. It was how she’d put up with Catra for so long. 

But the rest of them? It didn’t make any sense. 

She let herself be pulled along, waiting for someone to yank it all out from under her, to clap her in irons and say ‘haha, you thought anyone could care about _you?’_ or some similarly cutting remark. She’d sure been hearing a lot of them lately. 

Nobody did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “This homosexual dream of perfect metaphysical union is not so much a reflected heterosexual ideal as it is the compensation for having wept in the darkness.” -Thomas Yingling
> 
> well, we're back! and it looks like this is going to be a 3-part series, unless i'm fucking possessed again. genuinely alarming how productive i've been when i'm usually the slowest writer alive, but i'm just, like. gay. u know?
> 
> this is a little longer than the first installment. it's all written, so i'll be posting it as i edit, but this entire chapter didn't exist in the first draft so that's not saying much, i'm afraid. catra is, as the kids say, Going Through It right now, and without old-Catra around to snap her out of it, this is gonna get a little dark. there will be content warnings where appropriate but it won't go past canon-typical shit (barring the psychological ramifications being expressed instead of implied). 
> 
> this also means you're gonna be subjected to my usual End Note ramblings where i unpack narrative decisions so have fun being locked in here with me lmao


	2. Sleepover

She couldn’t quite bring herself to curl up on Adora’s bed that night, for all that she’d managed it during their afternoon nap. There was just something about the lengthening shadows that made her withdraw, and anyway, Glimmer and Bow were here now. 

It was one thing to sleep on Adora’s bed in the barracks, when she only considered the other cadets her enemies _some_ of the time, but Bright Moon was… well, they wouldn’t understand. It wouldn’t be practical, to them. They’d read too much into it, things that weren’t there.

Okay, she may have been freaking out about the ‘married in an alternate timeline’ thing a _little,_ but that had absolutely no bearing on the fact that she was currently arranging the sleeping bag Glimmer had (weirdly forcefully) provided her with. No bearing whatsoever.

She was just having a hard time reconciling this Adora with the old-Adora they’d met that morning. She had still felt _Adora-y_ in the ways that counted, but… less condescending. More understanding. It felt like she cared about Catra as much as old-Catra insisted _this_ Adora did. She’d made Catra feel like she could trust her. Like all the things both of them had told her about Adora--and about herself--might be _true._ Might be _possible,_ one day.

Because even if she could begrudgingly accept that on some level, this Adora loved her--it was pretty clear she wasn’t _in_ love with her. 

And that was… fine. She could deal with that. Had _been_ dealing with it, before all that shit with the sword and the defecting and the mutual betrayals. 

She sighed a little as she flopped onto the nest she’d curled the sleeping bag into, watching Bow chatter excitedly about something she’d long stopped paying attention to. He really was _always_ like that--all wide smiles and sincerity. It was a little off-putting; he reminded her of Scorpia, except he seemed to know when to back off. He had to be up to something, but she wasn’t sure what just yet. Old-Catra had said they were friends, so it couldn’t be too bad. Assuming old-Catra wasn’t as conniving as current-Catra, anyway. 

Glimmer was watching her with all the subtlety of a tank from the bag beside him, shooting her glances every ten seconds and narrowing her eyes suspiciously at any movement. 

Adora, though.

Adora looked happy, just as excited and engaged as Bow, vibrating with energy that kept expelling itself in gestures that were too big for the words she was saying. Once she actually smacked herself in the face hard enough to forget what she’d been talking about.

"Are you guys ready for tomorrow?” she asked eagerly, looking down at them. 

“Yes,” Glimmer said immediately. Then sighed. “No. I don’t know. It’s like--I’m so glad he’s alive, and--and I’m really excited to see him, I just…”

“It’s a lot,” Bow suggested gently, laying a hand on her knee. 

“Yeah,” she sighed again. Her eyes darted to Catra, evaluating, before apparently deciding her presence wasn’t a deterrent. “I mean, what if he doesn’t… like me?”

“Glimmer, he’s your dad,” said Bow, clearly amused. “He loves you.”

“He _loved_ me. Past tense!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. “He doesn’t _know_ me. What if he thinks I’m--annoying, or something? Or what if he still thinks of me as a little kid and tries to like, I don’t know--I don’t know! But I _want_ to see him. I want to get to know him. I have this idea in my head of what he’s like, and I just--I’m scared. What if he’s not how I remember? What if _I_ think _he’s_ annoying?” 

Catra exchanged a mystified glance with Adora. 

It wasn’t like they were unfamiliar with the concept of parents. It had always seemed like a nice little hypothetical, while they were tucked away in the shadows of the Fright Zone. Some of the other cadets had them, or _had_ had them, and it was… it sounded perfect, to Catra. A grown up that took care of you, protected you, _loved_ you.

Adora had always sounded so wistful when they speculated, chasing it with humble little remarks about being nothing before the Horde took her in, and how she was grateful, of course. Of course. Catra tried not to let on how badly she wanted them. She’d been three or four when she came to the Horde, but she remembered nothing of her time outside it. Had she been something, before? Would she be something again? Was there someone out there that missed her? Loved her?

But at some point she’d stopped wishing she had parents, started resenting the idea. All grown ups were the same, and expecting some of them to give a shit about her just because they’d fucked up and made her in the first place seemed naïve at best. Stupid at worst, because the older she got the harder it had become to ignore the obvious answer to just who had dumped her in a box as a toddler.

So hearing Glimmer go through this--part of her understood the apprehension, the self-conscious instinct to avoid it, but mostly it was confusing. Her dad _did_ love her. _He_ didn’t abandon her in the middle of nowhere. He didn’t leave on purpose. And Glimmer was worried he’d be annoying? 

She wasn’t sure what to do. She should say something, right? If Adora were the one freaking out, Catra would interject somehow. She knew what old-Catra would do: She’d say something just the right blend of lighthearted and cutting, derail whatever the fuck this was. But Catra… wasn’t her. She hadn’t learned any of the shit she was supposed to learn by being here, yet. 

Maybe just cutting would work.

“Damn, Sparkles,” she said before she could stop herself. “I didn’t realize your mom had shit taste in men.” 

“I--what’s that supposed to mean?” Glimmer asked indignantly. 

“I mean fuck, if you think being annoying is gonna make him hate you or something, he can’t be a very good dad, right?” she asked, looking to Adora for backup. 

“He won’t think you’re annoying,” Adora assured Glimmer before she could answer. “You’re _not_ annoying. You’re amazing.”

“Well,” Catra hedged. They all glared at her, even Adora, so she backed off, grinning to show she was just messing around. 

“It’s not like you don’t have enough in common,” Bow told Glimmer, chuckling. “Your mom always says you take after him, right? And you’re both dedicated to fighting the Horde. Doing what’s right.”

“I guess,” said Glimmer, but she didn’t sound very convinced. 

“Glimmer, he’ll love you,” said Adora, the picture of earnestness. “He’s your dad!”

“If you say so,” said Catra. “I’m trying to take Sparkles and like, subtract her mom’s whole thing to come up with an idea of the guy, and it is _not_ pretty. I could see a guy like that being a shitty dad.” 

“Catra!” Bow said indignantly, hand flying to Glimmer’s shoulder as if she needed support and wasn’t glaring daggers at Catra. 

“I’m not just my mom plus my dad,” she said angrily. “I’m me!” 

“Sure, sure,” said Catra, waving her hand. “I mean, I don’t know your mom very well seeing as we met _today_ and there’s a lifetime of Horde propaganda rattling around up here, but you seem pretty different from her. Maybe you’re different from him, too.” 

“I know, okay!” Glimmer burst out. Catra flinched involuntarily as sparks of magic sprang from her fingertips, cursing herself inwardly for letting it show. “You don’t have to be here, Catra! I thought maybe you could _try_ to be better? I know I’m not--I know I won’t ever be--”

Catra watched her warily, ears flattening against her skull. Okay, maybe just ‘cutting’ wasn’t a great way to go, remark-wise. Noted.

“You’re your own person,” Bow told Glimmer gently. “You _are_ different from your parents. But different doesn’t mean worse. You get to decide what kind of person you are.” 

Catra scowled. Why was Glimmer relaxing instead of attacking _him?_ Was it just too soon after all the invading and death threats for her to try and play nice?

She tilted her head as she watched the soothing little gestures Bow made, the softness of his tone. Quiet, open, vulnerable. Catra only spoke that softly when she was actively hurting someone, or when she and Adora had been trying not to wake the other cadets. Maybe that’s what she did wrong.

“That’s what I was saying,” she pointed out, growing frustrated. 

“No it isn’t,” Glimmer snapped at her. Catra glared back. 

“It kind of is,” said Adora from the bed, clearly uncomfortable. They all turned to her. “I mean--obviously it’s not _literally_ what she was saying but that’s how Catra talks, you know?” 

“Apparently we don’t,” huffed Glimmer. “What do you mean? What did _she_ mean?” 

“Well, it’s like--she’s saying that even if your dad turns out to be awful, you’ll be okay. And that he probably _isn’t_ awful, because your mom wouldn’t have married him if he was,” she explained hesitantly. “Right, Catra?” 

"I mean, yeah, obviously,” said Catra, frowning. 

“Right,” said Adora, nodding as if to herself. “But, see, they don’t know how you talk. So it kind of just sounded like you were insulting Glimmer _and_ her parents. While she was trying to be nice and include you in the discussion.” 

Catra stared at her, uncomprehending.

“So it was the way I said it?” she asked, trying to wrap her head around it. “I should be all touchy-feely like Arrow-Boy?” 

“No!” said Bow, looking outright alarmed at the thought. “No, just… nicer.”

Catra drew her legs up to her chest, watching him. Nicer. Right. She was supposed to be nicer. But she was _trying_ to be nicer. 

“So… you _weren’t_ just trying to rile me up right now?” Glimmer asked. 

“No,” Catra mumbled, glowering at her knees. She was such an idiot. Why did she think she was ready for that? She couldn’t do what old-Catra could. “I was _trying_ to make you feel better.” 

“Okay,” said Glimmer, taking a deep breath. “So, that’s something we’re going to need to work on, probably. All of us.” 

“All of us?” Catra echoed, raising an eyebrow and looking up at Glimmer. She seemed pained, but resolved. Like she’d decided she was going to eat glass, no matter what. 

“Yeah. You need to learn how to be nicer to people, obviously, but--in the meantime, we should try to understand how you talk. If Adora knew what you meant, you probably thought we would too, right? That’s how people talk in the Horde, or something?”

“I guess,” said Catra. 

Not everyone. She was worse than most, she knew, but it was just… easier. She didn’t have to admit that she cared, that she _wanted_ to make someone feel better, if she could couch her language in insults and terms of aggression. It kept people from getting ideas. 

Most people.

“It’s sort of a trust thing?” said Adora, like she wasn’t sure of the answer herself. “You had to be careful who you were nice to, because some people would take advantage. People kind of got a feel for who they could or couldn’t go after, who would do stuff for them and who would fight back.” 

“Or who it wasn’t safe to go after at all,” Catra added, trying not to sound bitter. It wasn’t Adora’s fault everyone was too scared of Shadow Weaver’s wrath to stuff her in a locker. She hadn’t resented that even before her little epiphany; if anything, it kept her safe when she was at Adora’s side. 

“Right,” said Adora nodding. “And if you weren’t one of those people, you had to become one. So a lot of people got… mean.”

She very pointedly did not look at Catra. 

“Hey, I could have been worse,” she said, leaning back on her hands. “I didn’t beat up the other cadets or anything--”

“You totally did!”

“I didn’t _start_ anything,” she groaned. “It’s not my fault they bit off more than they could chew. If they didn’t want their asses handed to them, they shouldn’t have fucked with me.” 

Adora sighed a little, turning back to Glimmer. “It’s a good way to make people leave you alone, is all,” she explained patiently.

And wasn’t that the truth? Catra had been so good at pushing people away, keeping them at arms’ length, that she’d just… never learned how to _not._ Everyone she would consider a ‘friend’ was someone who simply put up with the insults, and the anger, or… whatever festering defect in her character had led so many others to discard her. 

It was just easier. To think it was because she was insulting them. It wasn’t real rejection if it wasn’t the real her. 

Maybe that’s why Adora leaving had hurt so much--because if Adora, the person who knew her better than _anyone,_ had weighed her heart and found it wanting--

Then she really _was_ bad. 

“Do you want us to leave you alone, Catra?” asked Bow, carefully neutral. She could feel him watching her, but she didn’t meet his eyes, looking up at the ceiling. 

“No,” she admitted quietly. “I just--I don’t--I’m not _nice.”_

“That’s okay,” he said gently. She could hear the smile in his voice, and it made some of the dread in her stomach seep away. He’d wait. She had time, still. “You don’t have to be a totally different person overnight. We can figure it out together.”

“Okay,” she said, exhaling slowly as she looked back down at them. Glimmer was frowning in what might have been thought, while Adora was beaming at Bow in undisguised joy. Clearly trying to get along with Catra _at all_ was more than she’d been expecting. Well, fine. She could do the unexpected too. “Thanks.” 

Bow blinked in surprise, breaking into a wide smile. “You’re welcome!” he said eagerly, though thankfully didn’t try to make it, like, a _thing._ Adora’s beam grew even brighter, turning on Catra with fresh delight. Catra’s cheeks heated beneath her fur. 

She may have miscalculated that one. She needed to re-establish her cool and brooding persona, stat. 

“So,” she said, clearing her throat. “What are you going to do with Shadow Weaver?” 

Adora’s smile dropped instantly, and even though it had been so bright it was hurting Catra’s eyes, she sort of missed it. But of course she was ruining conversations again already, after like three sentences of relative peace. 

“I guess we’ll just… keep her prisoner?” said Glimmer, though she sounded like she didn’t really know. “There’s not really a precedent. We’ve never had a prisoner before.” 

“Yeah, no kidding,” Catra snorted, remembering the lavish room they’d stuck Shadow Weaver in. “Seems ridiculous to me. The Horde’s got more prisoners than casualties.” 

“We’re aware,” Glimmer said flatly. “I was wondering, actually…” 

“What?” asked Catra, raising an eyebrow. “What we do with them? Hell if I know. Probably some kind of indoctrination shit, but that wasn’t exactly my department--”

“No, no,” said Glimmer. She looked nervous, like she wasn’t sure if her question would make Catra attack her. Always a great sign. “I just… future-you said Shadow Weaver was… more than what we’d seen of her. And I don’t mean to--to press you for details or anything! I just--what did she mean ‘more’?” 

Catra did _not_ attack the Crown Princess of Bright Moon, thank you very much, but it was a near thing. She scowled, hunching around her knees again, tail wrapped over her ankles as her hackles rose defensively. “She meant what she said, Sparkles.”

“She said--she said torture,” said Glimmer, visibly swallowing. She looked between Catra and Adora, who had similarly closed off on the bed. “She said--” 

“You’ve met her,” Catra said through her teeth. “You know what her magic is--was like.” 

“Adora, why didn’t you tell us any of this?” Bow asked. He sounded small. Sad. They all wore their hearts on their sleeves, in the Rebellion. Or on their chests, in his case. “You said she drives people apart, that she plays mind games, but--” 

“What was I supposed to say?” Adora asked, folding up tighter on the bed above them. “You guys… you guys are great. You’re my best friends. But you don’t understand what it was like, in the Horde.”

“So help us understand,” he murmured, reaching out to lay his fingers against the mattress. He couldn’t quite reach Adora, but she gave a small, strained smile at the attempt.

“We couldn’t… _do_ anything. Like we were just saying about being nice, but _more._ It was like everything--everything that made you feel like--everything was _wrong._ Don’t be nice to each other. Don’t touch each other. Don’t develop unique fighting styles.”

“Wouldn’t that be a good thing?” asked Glimmer, frowning. “Like how Catra uses her speed to counter She-Ra’s strength?” 

Catra tried not to preen, but she couldn’t help smirking. “The fact that they gave _Adora_ the same training as _Kyle_ says otherwise. It’s… you’re not really supposed to be an individual, as a cadet. You work with your squadron to ensure success, and having personalized moves just means you’re less likely to be able to predict other squads’ movements. It would be a hindrance in a large force.”

“If your squadron fails, _you_ fail,” Adora said seriously. “I was--I was supposed to be the squad leader, you know? I couldn’t just let everybody down. But… but I think… I did anyway.” 

Bow and Glimmer exchanged a look in Catra’s peripheral vision, but her eyes were glued to Adora.

“I… even my good memories seem like they’ve been, just, tainted. There was so much going on that I didn’t know about. So many times I got Catra hurt without--without even thinking about it. I never wondered where the bruises came from, because I thought I _knew._ I didn’t ask about the way she’d lash out because it was just how she _was,_ I didn’t make her talk about her nightmares or--” 

She cut herself off, shaking her head. “I’m sorry,” she said, quiet and folding inwards. “I didn’t… I didn’t tell you because it didn’t feel like my place. It still doesn’t. I don’t have any right to complain, not when I…” 

“Hey, old-me was right,” said Catra, when she trailed off. “She hurt you too, Adora. It… I didn’t understand that until fucking _yesterday,_ but she did. And now you’re hurting yourself.” 

Adora smiled weakly, half-heartedly. 

“I don’t give a fuck what you need to tell them about us growing up,” said Catra, making an executive decision. “I was just a kid, and they know I’m strong now, so they won’t get any fucking ideas.”

“Hey,” Adora said gently, reaching out to her, laying a hand on her shoulder. “They won’t hurt people because of what they’ve been through. I promise, Catra. It’s--it’s safe to talk to them. They’ll listen. They’re… better than the Horde.” 

Catra met her eyes. _Better than I was,_ Adora didn’t say, but Catra could read it in every line of her body. Half-buried shame and regret and guilt, weighing her down. 

She felt a little sick that she hadn’t seen it before, past all the anger. Past their mistakes.

“Then talk,” she said, raising an eyebrow like it was a challenge. Maybe it was, on some level. Challenging Adora to prove they could trust these people. To see if Adora was willing to spill her guts like she seemed to hope Catra would. 

Adora straightened her shoulders, eyes gleaming with determination. She withdrew her hand from Catra’s shoulder and looked between Glimmer and Bow. 

“She didn’t hurt me like she hurt Catra,” she said quietly, in clipped tones, like she was delivering a report. “She told me she was showing me favor, she was making me strong, making me _special._ She said that nobody else would--would ever understand me, that no one would care about me unless I was powerful enough to deserve it. To protect them. And as long as everything was going well, she kept saying it, so I made things go well, because… because when they didn’t, she’d say… other stuff.” 

Catra watched her, the slow way her straightened shoulders tightened in again, like she was a turtle withdrawing into its shell. 

“I wasn’t--I wasn’t working hard enough. I didn’t care about her, or Catra, or my friends, and I wanted to watch them die on the battlefield because I was too weak to save them. I failed them. She said if I wasn’t stronger, if I wasn’t the _strongest,_ the princesses would win, and they’d--they’d destroy everyone. Everything on the planet.” She swallowed convulsively. “Sometimes she’d get… specific.” 

“What do you mean?” Glimmer asked softly. 

Adora shook her head, eyes glued to her lap again. She’d drawn her crossed legs nearer to her body, so they were shielding her abdomen. 

“Adora,” said Catra, watching the way her eyes clouded over, the distant stare as they fell out of focus. “What do you mean.” 

Her eyes flickered to Catra and back, still unfocused.

“It wasn’t too bad at first. Just like, ‘Kyle’s going to get his head blown off’ or something. But--but the older we got, the closer we were to seeing actual combat, the more important it was that I take it seriously, you know?” 

“No,” said Bow. “That--Adora, that’s horrible. You were already taking it seriously.” 

“The words were--were just words,” Adora disagreed, shaking her head again. “It--sometimes when I messed up really bad, when I lost to someone I should have been able to beat, she’d conjure… illusions. She has these shadow spies, right? Like in Mystacor. And she can--she can make them look like real people.” 

“Adora,” said Catra, half-reaching for her before pulling back. “You didn’t--you never told me this.” 

“Yeah, well,” said Adora, laughing a small, bitter laugh. “You never told me a lot of things, I guess.” 

“Were the illusions also… people getting hurt?” asked Bow. He looked like he was on the verge of tears. 

“Usually killed,” Adora whispered, eyes flickering to Catra’s. She looked hollow. Haunted. Catra’s stomach was heavy with dread and regret and fear. “Sometimes worse. Tortured, or--It wasn’t like the holograms in training simulations. It was all--it was so _real.”_

Glimmer, apparently having had enough, got to her feet and enveloped Adora in a hug, Bow hot on her heels. They squished Adora between them, rubbing and soothing as she buried her face in Glimmer’s bicep and took deep, shuddering breaths. 

Catra just stared. 

She felt trapped, like she wanted to reach out but couldn’t move an inch from her position on her sleeping bag. 

“I…” she began, pausing a moment to lick her lips when her voice came out quiet and dry. “I always thought you tried so hard because you were a showoff. Because you wanted to keep being the best, to keep being the favorite. You didn’t want to wind up like me.” 

Adora shifted her head slightly, half of one blue eye peering at her over Glimmer’s sleeve.

“Old-me said that--that you never thought you were the best. That you were trying to live up to people’s expectations so you’d be safe.” 

“I--I guess I kind of was,” said Adora. Her voice was shaking, but there were no tears in the one eye Catra could see. “I guess I am. I always feel like--like if I’m not good enough, if I don’t carry out my responsibilities, someone will be hurt and it will be all my fault. It’s just… for so long, that was _true._ It was my fault when she hurt you. I couldn’t--I didn’t want to feel like that. I didn’t want to be responsible for that.” 

Catra looked down. She could feel Bow and Glimmer staring at her, just watching. Waiting. Seeing what she was willing to offer them in exchange for Adora’s show of vulnerability. 

“You know that one memory your temple thing showed us?” she asked, running an idle claw along the stripes on her arm, tracing the crisscrossing scars. “When we went in the Black Garnet Chamber and--and Shadow Weaver caught us?” 

Adora made a small, displeased noise that meant yeah, she knew the one.

“I’ve been thinking about it, since old-me told me about your, like, issues. I thought--I used to think you were standing up for me because you thought I couldn’t do it myself. That I was weak.” 

“We were six,” Adora said softly. 

“Yeah. We were.” Catra sighed, running a hand through her hair. “We were six and she told you to keep me in line or she’d kill me, and I only ever thought about how that made you see _me._ Not how you saw her.” 

“She told you _what?”_ asked Bow, horrified. 

“That’s nothing, Arrow-Boy,” Catra chuckled. “But… I don’t know. I guess it made more sense to think that you believed her, that you thought I was a troublemaker that needed to be brought to heel. It was easier to think you wanted to please Shadow Weaver, or even that you were trying to protect me unnecessarily, than to think she was messing with both of us at the same time.” 

“I _did_ think you were a troublemaker,” said Adora. “I… I could see how strong you were, and how you cared less and less about training, and I wanted you to apply yourself so we could go into the field together. It never… I thought that she was looking at you as an investment, and I just had to show her how much you were already worth.” 

“Yeah. I fucking hated you for that,” said Catra, laughing a little louder. Broken, bitter, angry. “It felt like you just--like you thought I deserved everything she did to me. Like I wasn’t trying at all. Like it fucking _mattered_ how hard I tried, when--it wasn’t like I’d ever be good enough. As good as you. But you kept trying to keep me in line.” 

“I’m sorry,” said Adora, so quiet Catra almost couldn’t hear her. “I thought I was protecting you, but I just--I just made everything _worse.”_

“It’s not your fault, Adora,” Catra sighed. “That’s… and look, if this leaves this room, I’ll kill all three of you, but--that’s… what made me decide to leave. I talked to old-me and… It may have taken a really disturbing visual aid in the form of her menacing her fucking baby, but I think I finally get it, now. I can blame you for everything you did after, yeah, but when we were growing up--there was nothing either of us could have done.” 

Adora’s eyes filled with tears, and she buried her face back in Glimmer’s arm. 

Catra groaned dramatically, reaching up to pat her on the knee. “There, there. You can’t help having been an especially stupid child.” 

“It’s not fair,” came Adora’s voice, muffled. 

“It isn’t,” Bow agreed, smoothing down the hair that had escaped her ponytail. “But it’s--it’ll be okay, Adora. Catra’s here now, and we’re safe, and you guys can be friends again.” 

_“Maybe_ you can even apologize for the attempted murder,” said Glimmer. Her sarcasm was softer than Catra was used to, but it wasn’t pity. Not yet. Catra still avoided her gaze, watching Adora’s ears since everything else was hidden from view. 

“I already told you, I was trying to _maim_ her,” said Catra, rolling her eyes. She needed sarcasm right now. There were far too many personal thoughts out in the open for comfort. “But yeah, I guess we have a lot we need to talk about. Apparently we have to ‘communicate’.” 

“Future-me said I need to tell people how I feel ‘or else’,” said Adora, sniffing slightly as she withdrew from the crevice of Glimmer’s elbow. Her face was dry, but her eyes still shone with emotion. “I--I guess I don’t know how I feel about all of this, yet. But I know I’m glad you’re here. All of you.” 

“Of course,” said Glimmer, beaming at her. “We’re the Best Friends Squad! … And Catra.” 

“Glimmer--” Bow started, but Catra cut him off with a wave.

“No no, I’m happy to be excluded from that one,” she murmured, closing her eyes and pulling part of the sleeping bag over her.

“I feel,” Adora announced, stretching out her foot to poke Catra, “that you should get up here, too.” 

Catra opened her eyes to give Adora the most skeptical, incredulous look she could muster.

“Come on,” Adora whined. “You were fine this morning!” 

“Sparkles and Arrow-Boy weren’t gatecrashing this morning,” she muttered, turning her face away so she wouldn’t have to see Adora’s pleading expression. 

“Wait, you _were_ sharing a bed earlier?” asked Glimmer. 

“Yeah, of course. We always shared,” said Adora.

Bow choked on nothing. Catra squeezed her eyes shut. Yeah, there it was. They were reading into it. 

“Things were different in the Horde,” she hissed into her sleeping bag, trying to head it off without spelling out for Adora what exactly her friends had assumed. “It was a tactical formation. I slept at the foot of her bed in case of emergencies.”

“Emergencies,” Adora repeated flatly. Catra turned her head back to look at her unimpressed expression, scowling in response. “Complaining that you were cold when you _refused_ to get under the covers does _not_ count as an emergency.”

“Why the fuck would I get under the covers when we were _surrounded_ by people who hated my guts? You know what’s not tactical? Getting your claws snagged when Lonnie is out for blood.” 

“Like you couldn’t take Lonnie,” Adora scoffed. 

“If I’d been swaddled like a fucking infant I would’ve gotten a few black eyes, at the very least.”

“So the obvious solution was no blankets at all and making my feet fall asleep?” 

“It’s a _bed,_ Adora. You’re _supposed_ to be asleep.”

“Not that kind of asleep!”

“Okay,” Glimmer interrupted, “so, Adora, you didn’t think maybe this was worth mentioning when we were like, fighting her?” 

“What, that she lays on people to absorb body heat?” asked Adora, apparently genuinely confused. Catra bit back a sigh. That sure was the mother of her future-children, alright.

“That the person you kept insisting on single combat with happened to have slept in your bed for over a _decade?”_

“Oh, that,” said Adora. She laughed nervously. “Well--I didn’t think you’d want to hear about it. You really--you don’t like the Horde, Glimmer. You just said last night, people from--”

“I know what I said,” said Glimmer, grimacing. “I’m sorry, Adora. I didn’t mean to make you feel like you couldn’t talk about--about your whole life before you met us.” 

Adora stopped laughing, eyes dropping to her lap again. 

“It wasn’t… just that,” she said after a moment, looking down at Catra. “It was… hard to talk about. It was hard to think about. It--kind of still is.” 

“The Horde?” Bow asked gently.

But Adora shook her head. 

“I guess I just--I don’t know what’s real anymore,” she all but whispered. “I didn’t realize how unhappy I was in the Horde until I got out. I didn’t realize that Light Hope was--that she lied to me. It was like the only thing I was ever sure of was that I wanted to make things right. To make them better. But the way to do that kept changing.” 

“Why did that make it hard to talk about your life?” Glimmer asked softly, patiently. 

“When we were growing up, it was always me and Catra,” said Adora, meeting her eyes. Catra blinked for her to continue. “I thought it would always be that way. That we were training to be soldiers, that all of the things that happened to us were for a reason, that they were making us stronger. But when I met you guys, I realized there _wasn’t_ a reason. And--and I still thought it would be me and Catra. For a while.” 

Thaymor. Catra looked away. 

“I guess I worded it badly,” Adora went on, still quiet. “When I asked you to come with me. I thought you meant it didn’t matter that the Horde was evil, that you wanted to run it anyway. But you were talking about--about the way they treated you.” 

Catra growled, low in her chest, but more at the memory than Adora herself. “You didn’t see it. It was like you’d just forgotten everything Shadow Weaver had ever done to me. To us. Like it just didn’t affect you, until you were gone for a _day_ and suddenly you cared about--about everything.” She closed her eyes. “More than you cared about me.” 

“I always cared about you,” Adora said softly. “I’m so sorry I made you feel like that. I was so focused on stopping the Horde that I didn’t think about how you felt.” 

“You didn’t know how I felt,” said Catra, opening her eyes again. She stared up at Adora’s impossibly high ceiling. “It’s not like I ever told you.” 

Telling Adora how she felt. 

A novel concept, best buried under a few more layers of flippancy. 

“Besides,” she said, before Adora could respond, “I probably wouldn’t have gone even if you’d phrased it perfectly. Even knowing what Shadow Weaver was gonna do to me when I got back, it was still--it was easier to face that than some unknown enemy. To just leave everything behind.” 

“Is that still how you feel?” asked Bow. 

“I dunno. I guess not, since Shadow Weaver’s here now and I came anyway. It’s not an enemy-you-know or don’t-know situation anymore. The Horde is my enemy, but…” 

It felt like the enemy she didn’t know was turning out to be herself.

“I dunno,” she said again, sighing. “It kind of feels like nothing is going to be easy ever again.” 

“Welcome to defecting,” said Adora, grimacing empathetically. 

“Yeah, poor rebels, you have to talk about your feelings instead of hitting things and/or each other,” said Glimmer, rolling her eyes. 

“Talking is stupid,” Adora muttered, collapsing back onto her mattress. 

“Feelings are also stupid,” Catra agreed from the floor.

“Come on, guys!” said Bow. “Don’t you feel a little better? Like you understand each other more?”

“I feel like shit,” said Adora. Catra just groaned in agreement. “I just… this whole time, I’ve been actively ruining everything. I’m literally worse than useless.” 

_“You’ve_ been ruining everything?” Catra asked incredulously. “I kidnapped your friends, invaded their kingdom, and tried to mind-control you into murdering them _.”_

“Yeah, and if I hadn’t been such an idiot, then--” 

“Uggggghhhh, don’t _do_ that. Don’t act like everything I did is because you like, failed to convince me to join your super cool sparkle squad,” said Catra, scowling. “Don’t act like--like I’m not responsible for myself. Like I didn’t decide to hurt you instead of asking what you were thinking.” 

Even knowing how she’d felt about Adora, she’d still… It had been so easy to believe it. To think their promise, their friendship, had been _nothing_ to her. To think the Adora she’d fallen in--that the Adora in her head was just an idea, that the real Adora was the warrior glaring at her in Salineas, or yelling at her through Princess Prom. That Adora had only ever thought of her as a pet, a sidekick. 

Sometimes she wondered if Adora had kept her around so she’d look better in comparison. If she only pretended to look out for her so she’d be visible enough for Shadow Weaver to attack in Adora’s stead.

But all this time, she’d been wrong. All this time, Adora was thinking the same kind of shit, and now she was trying to pretend Catra hadn’t done anything wrong, like the self-sacrificing idiot she was. 

“Catra--” 

“You never said, anyway. Why it was hard to talk about your life,” she interrupted. 

Adora sighed, but only a little. The temporary-surrender sigh. She’d bring it up later, but she wasn’t going to push for now. Catra forced some of the tension from her shoulders. Fine. Whatever. She wouldn’t let Adora take the blame. Not this time. Not for this.

“Right,” said Adora, all tired and defeated. “I mean, like I said, people around here--they’re not crazy about the Horde. So it felt wrong to talk about having been happy there, or caring what happened to my friends. Considering you my friends at all, when we were on different sides of a war. What would they think of She-Ra, if they knew she would _wage war_ against her best friends? Against the people she thought of as family?”

“You were fighting for what’s right,” said Glimmer, still sitting beside her. She laid a hand against what was _probably_ (had better be) Adora’s arm. “We would have been proud of you. We--I didn’t realize. I didn’t know how hard it was for you.” 

Adora laughed a little. “How hard it was for _me?”_ she echoed, and Catra couldn’t see her face anymore but she could hear the fabric shift as Adora shook her head in disbelief. “I don’t know. I needed--I needed to be She-Ra. To be strong enough to protect everyone, to not disappoint Queen Angella or you or Bow or--or everybody we met, really. And I… I felt like I wasn’t good at it. I’m still not. I just--I didn’t want to tell you--I didn’t want to admit that I cared about _any_ part of the Horde. It felt like I shouldn’t.” 

“Adora, of course you cared. We should have realized what you were going through. You… the first time we met, you told us they were your family,” Bow said gently. “It must have been horrible. It must _be_ horrible.”

“You said it wasn’t just the Horde, though,” said Catra. Much as she’d love to unpack whatever Adora had said about the Horde--about _her--_ there was more. And that meant Adora needed to get it out now, while the floodgates were already open.

“Yeah. It wasn’t just that. There are just things that you guys wouldn’t understand. That I couldn’t explain. Things _I_ don’t understand. I felt like everything was a lie, and it was like, were my feelings even real? Were my memories? If Shadow Weaver could--could make me forget the sword, had she made me forget anything else?” 

Catra suppressed a shudder, a bitter taste on her tongue. 

“I tried… I’ve been trying to just, one step after another, you know? Just taking things one mission at a time, being the best She-Ra I could be. I didn’t think I needed to talk things out, or dwell on the past, when the present needed all of my focus.” 

“Kind of the exact opposite of my issues, then,” Catra snorted. “I couldn’t let it go, and you couldn’t even think about it.” 

“My future-self said I don’t have to think about the future yet. She said we can figure that out as we go. But that I had to--to think about the past. To understand it. Or else.” 

“Wow, another threat? Yours was a lot meaner than mine,” said Catra, raising an eyebrow. “How the tables have turned.”

“Well, it was ‘or else you’re going to have a nervous breakdown’ so I think it came from a place of love,” said Adora. Catra could hear the smirk in her voice. 

“I love her,” Bow said immediately. “Yes. She’s right, Adora! You need to rest sometimes, and process everything. Nobody can fight forever, not even She-Ra.” 

“Maybe, but she can fight longer than anybody else,” Adora muttered. “It feels like a waste of time, you know? Like I could be training and getting stronger, I shouldn’t waste time whining about stuff that’s already happened.” 

“It’s not whining, and it’s not a waste of time,” Glimmer said firmly. “If it helps you understand yourself better, it’s important!” 

“It’s correcting a weakness,” said Catra from the floor. Like what old-Catra had told her about trusting people, except Adora needed to learn to trust herself. “If you can’t see the gaps in your armor, you need to look at the whole uniform and reinforce the parts that are falling apart.” 

“Oh,” said Adora. “I… never thought about it like that.” 

They sat in silence for a while. Catra’s thoughts were beginning to slow with exhaustion, so she watched the play of emotions across Bow and Glimmer’s faces. Open books, both of them. It had been so easy to play them when she’d been kidnapped. So easy to separate them from the herd during that stupid ball. 

She resolved to toughen them up a little, moving forward. To teach them to be less ridiculous and predictable, at least with their enemies. 

Maybe in exchange, they could teach her how they’d gotten Adora to trust them so fast. Why Catra herself felt comfortable enough to sleep in the same room as them, when just last night she’d been Hordak’s second-in-command, their penultimate foe. 

Well, okay, that probably had more to do with the bone-deep certainty that Adora wouldn’t let them murder her in her sleep, but it felt like an appropriate sentiment. 

She let her eyes slide shut again, listening to their breathing. The whole room smelled like warmth and softness and _Adora,_ and before she knew it, Catra drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [swirls diet coke in a wine glass] no place like a sleepover for oversharing, am i right comrades?
> 
> can't really get out of this one without addressing it: bow and glimmer are kind of sheltered about parents automatically loving their kids. even in canon, when they're worried about disappointing their own parents, they're never like... [gestures]. bow's confidence in angella & glimmer's in lance and george is kind of where i'm taking this stance from--they never doubted the other would have loving and understanding parents, bc they deserved them. and that's how parents work, right? 
> 
> idk man. when adora talks about shadow weaver raising her, and glimmer jumps immediately to "oh she's your mom"--there's a lot of baggage on both sides of that implication. glimmer's like 'man how horrible would it be to have a mom that was so evil' and adora's just like 'damn imagine if sw had been like, willing to be my mom lol'. 
> 
> we're gonna talk some more in later chapters about the intricate rituals of being a bitch to express affection but it's worth noting that catra & to a lesser extent adora are... shall we say, socially feral. there aren't exactly positive role models in the horde, u know? part of the reason they were so codependent is they were basically inventing every aspect of their relationship whole-cloth. factor in shadow weaver & they were basically fucked from the beginning. outside influence, outside examples and affections, help people. it helps to see what a healthy relationship looks like, if only so you can emulate it. the best friend squad is basically Friendship Boot Camp & they just got a new member, babey


	3. All According to Plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING: flashback to some quality time with Shadow Weaver in this chapter. The entire section is italicized so it should be easy to avoid. I'll put a summary of events in the end notes.

The Fright Zone seemed… darker, than Catra remembered. Having spent all of yesterday in Bright Moon, the contrast was startling--like walking into a mine, or a cave. No one gave her a second glance until they noticed Adora stumbling along behind her. 

She couldn’t resist being a little rougher than necessary, keeping her off-balance and scowling at Catra. She grinned back. Had to keep up appearances, right? 

“Catra! Hey, Catra!” 

Fuck. 

Catra walked faster. 

“Catra, wait up!” Scorpia yelled, even though she was directly in Catra’s path. “There you are! I’ve been looking for you everywhere. I mean I kind of figured you were avoiding me actually, but uh--” 

“Scorpia,” said Catra, through gritted teeth. “Now is not a great time.” 

“Oh,” said Scorpia, blinking. Her eyes moved to Adora, widening to an almost comical degree. _“Oh._ Uh--wow. So I guess you weren’t just too high up for me to find you, huh?” 

_“Scorpia.”_

“Okay, okay! Um…” Scorpia looked around nervously, grabbing Catra by the elbow and hauling her into a service corridor. Adora yelped through her gag as she was towed along, unused to Scorpia’s tendency to manhandle and unprepared for Catra to be yanked so suddenly.

“Are you sure about this, Wildcat?” she asked, gripping Catra’s shoulders and staring into her eyes. Or attempting to--Catra was doing her best to avoid eye contact, grimacing but resigned to the conversation. She looked at Adora instead, trying to pick apart the surprise and confusion. There was something else there, something wary and almost indignant that Catra didn’t think she’d ever seen before, as Adora frowned at Scorpia in clear trepidation. 

“You don’t even know what I’m doing,” Catra huffed. “It’s gonna be fine, alright?”

“I know things are tense right now with the--” Scorpia lowered her voice “--Shadow Weaver situation, but I don’t think this is--”

“There _is_ no situation,” Catra growled, bristling slightly. “I know exactly where she is, and I’m going to tell Hordak as much when I give him She-Ra.” 

“She’s not just She-Ra,” said Scorpia. “Not to you.” Catra finally met her eyes, surprised, and forced herself to relax a little when she saw only concern. It was fine. Scorpia wouldn’t… turn on her. Wouldn’t use that against her. She took a deep, stabilizing breath. 

“Look,” said Catra. “Right now, I need you to… trust me.” 

Scorpia lit up like she’d just been promoted, eyes sparkling. “Always, Wildcat.”

“I’m working on something,” she said quietly, “something big. I want you to go to Entrapta’s lab and wait for me to come meet you. If she’s there, make sure she _stays_ there, but don’t go chasing after her if you don’t find her on the way.”

“Okay,” said Scorpia, nodding very solemnly, squeezing Catra’s shoulders with her pincers before stepping away. “You got it, boss. Just… please be careful. I was really worried about you yesterday.” 

Catra waved her off, and watched as she disappeared down the main hallway. 

When she turned back, Adora was staring at her with that same little frown. 

“What?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “I told you, I trust her.” 

She didn’t want to say it out loud, not when Hordak’s fucking imp might be lurking somewhere, but she hoped Adora knew that meant she could trust her, too. 

Adora shrugged a little, one eye lifting like she was smirking under her gag, and Catra rolled her eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” she muttered, tugging her back onto their path to Hordak. She was going to hear more about that ‘She’s not just She-Ra’ shit later, but fuck if it wasn’t true. She was a little surprised Scorpia had been able to pick up on it, but she hadn’t exactly been subtle in the Northern Reach. 

Fortunately, their little ruse meant she could put it off for a while longer, and like hell was she going to pass _that_ up.

The sanctum hadn’t changed at all in the day she was gone, except Hordak was sitting on his throne instead of tinkering with tech in the shadows. It was extra cold and extra dark and made Catra’s hackles start to rise, though through a force of will she was able to keep her ears forward. 

“Lord Hordak,” she all but purred, tossing Adora to the ground in front of him. She landed heavily on her shoulder, skidding on the smooth floor. Hordak raised an eyebrow, not yet smiling. 

“Force Captain,” he said calmly. “So this is where you’ve been?” 

Catra nodded. The best lies were built on truth. “Yes, Lord Hordak. My older self took me to Bright Moon before departing for her own time, and with her knowledge of their security we simply walked right in.”

“I see,” said Hordak, getting to his feet. His imp scurried from his lap, sniffing at Adora as she struggled to get to her knees, eyes hard over her gag. Catra had to hand it to her: She looked genuinely pissed off. Hordak circled her, slow and evaluating. “What else did you learn?” 

“Shadow Weaver fled to Bright Moon as well. Her escape from our prison would have been enough to destroy her completely, had this one minded her own business,” said Catra. She kicked Adora’s boot, the only part of her in easy reach. Adora scowled back at her before returning her glare to Hordak. 

“Oh?” asked Hordak, pausing in his circling. The imp flew overhead, chittering.

“She has _healing powers,”_ Catra explained, making a face to emphasize her disgust. “Isn’t that just _so_ Princess? The tiara and the flying horse weren’t enough, now she has to be able to fix people’s injuries with the power of love or whatever.” 

“So Princess indeed,” said Hordak, staring down at Adora. “What became of your badge, Force Captain Catra? We lost your signal early yesterday morning.” 

“Smashed it,” said Catra, grinning again. “Way we got their guard down was pretending I was defecting. Idiots ate it right up. I even talked She-Ra here into wandering off with me all by her lonesome.” 

Hordak’s eyes were still on Adora. “I see,” he said slowly. 

His hand shot out before Catra could react, not towards Adora, but to his side, and suddenly the towers were sparking to life, and Catra instinctively gasped as much air as she could before the field closed around her. 

She could just see Adora’s face--confused, alarmed--but Hordak was stalking nearer, his imp landing outside the trap she’d walked right into, like an _idiot_.

“You’ll need to train your accomplices better than that, Force Captain,” said Hordak. Catra’s air was already running out; she’d have to breathe soon, but there wouldn’t be any relief. She clutched at her throat, dread roaring through her ears. 

“Was it _all_ a lie? Did she tell you anything true of my brother? His empire?” 

Hordak loomed over her. Catra dropped to her knees, gasping for breath, but there was no air. There was nothing. Old-Catra hadn’t been able to protect her after all, and she’d dragged Adora down with her because she was too pathetic to face this alone, even when it was the only sensible plan. 

At least he wouldn’t kill them--not without making an example of them. Glimmer would save Adora, and Catra--

Well. Catra would survive. She always did.

“She will not dissuade me. I _will_ open the portal, and I _will_ be reunited with Horde Prime. I shall not bow to the word of a creature as weak and pathetic as yourself,” said Hordak from above her.

Adora _snarled,_ the sword unraveling from its vambrace form, slicing her restraints as it went. She ripped her gag off with one fluid motion, whirling on Hordak. He raised an arm to counter a strike, staggering backwards from the force. It bit into the metal of his suit, and he gawped in rage and apparent disbelief. 

“What? How--” 

“Shouldn’t you know?” Adora demanded angrily, lunging away, the sword becoming a quarterstaff that knocked the lever back, dropping the field. “You’re the one that found me, aren’t you?”

Catra slumped forward as she drank in as much air as her lungs could hold, panting pathetically on the ground at Hordak’s feet once again.

Sanctums were officially bullshit.

“That portal,” said Hordak. He moved to strike at Catra, but a golden rope around his wrist arrested the blow’s progress. He snarled in frustration. “Wherever it plucked you from had a more sophisticated atmosphere. What was it? Darius-7? Enos, perhaps?”

His eyes narrowed, zeroing in on the sword. “Ah,” he said, with a sharp tug that dragged Adora forward a pace, “of course. Eternia.” 

“Mission compromised,” Catra gasped into the earpiece Bow had given her, struggling to her feet. She felt light-headed, off-balance, tail lashing as she tried to get her footing. “Complete Objective B and meet at the rendezvous point. _Do not engage.”_

“What?” Bow squawked, crackling with static. “Are you guys okay? Should we--” 

_"Complete the mission,”_ Catra hissed, staggering forward. Hordak and Adora were engaged in a very deadly game of tug-of-war, the sword still wrapped around his arm as a rope. His eyes narrowed as he realized Catra had found her bearings, and he changed tactics abruptly. 

Rushing at Adora, he gained enough slack to reach the lever. 

Again. 

Catra’s thoughts became _very_ colorful as he turned his atmosphere-disrupting-whatever back on, and with a sharp pull of his cybernetically-enhanced arm, broke the switch. 

“Catra!” said Adora, gasping, half-reaching for her, but Catra shook her head, darting out of the field and up the steps of Hordak’s throne. 

“Drill procedure!” she yelled, voice hoarse, but at least this time she’d been able to escape before her limbs grew too heavy. Hopefully Adora hadn’t been so busy repressing their childhood she’d forgotten Catra’s M.O. during training. 

Keep out of sight. Wait for an opening. If she goes down, Adora backs her up. 

She let herself fall into the familiar steps, finding the high ground, keeping an ear trained on Adora’s movements. She sounded secure; the clashing of metal meant she was at least holding her own. As Catra reached the top of the stairs, she turned on her heel, eyes narrowing to a single point of focus. 

Adora had shifted the fight so Hordak’s back was to Catra, playing to their old strategies. Catra grinned appreciatively, shifting her weight. She’d probably only have one shot at this; there was no way she could count on being able to hold her breath during a fight.

Letting her claws tear into the metal, Catra launched herself onto Hordak’s shoulders, grappling for his armor. He roared in frustration, both arms coming up to rip her loose, but it left his stomach exposed enough for Adora to land a solid kick to his gut. 

Catra hauled backwards, using his dumbass collar as a handle, but she was out of air again. Shit. She had to disengage, but there was no way Adora had enough time to transform with the scant seconds Catra had been able to buy. 

She dug the claws on her feet into the suit. Fine. She’d buy a few _more_ seconds. 

“Release me!” Hordak snarled, one hand tangling in her hair as he fumbled to hold a passable guard against Adora with the other. Catra growled, shifting her grip to bury the claws of one hand in the exposed flesh where his neck met his shoulder. 

She could hear herself gasping for air even over the sound of his furious scream, but no calls for the honor of Grayskull. What was Adora _doing?_

Her vision was darkening at the edges again. Everything was shaking, but that could have been either the oxygen deprivation or Hordak trying to buck her off like an absurd, skeletal horse. 

Her claws were forced loose as her grip weakened, and Hordak tossed her by her hair hard enough to have knocked the wind out of her, if she’d had any wind left to begin with. 

_Fuck,_ that hurt. Now her scalp was on fire too. Everything was hazy beyond the panic and the weight on her chest and the sound of her useless gasps, a blur of green and black and red. 

A hand dug into her waist, but she didn’t have the energy to fight it. Her labored breathing stuttered, and everything went black.

\- - - 

_Catra hated this fucking room._

_She hated the dank air, the freezing metal of the table, the taste of rust lingering on the back of her tongue. She hated the stupid basin Shadow Weaver used to spy on people, she hated the creepy ass magic devices, and more than anything, she hated the Black Garnet._

_It really was the eternal thorn in her side, that fucking rock._

_She’d been waiting for what felt like hours, unrestrained for once but unwilling to snoop in case that was a trap. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time unexpected surveillance bit her in the ass. She just sat on the table and tried not to think about the half-dissected animals she’d seen splayed on it before._

_Finally, the door slid open, and Shadow Weaver glided through._

_She didn’t speak to Catra, didn’t look at her. She just went to her little scrying station and stared into the water, letting Catra stew in her increasing agitation._

_Another one of her little power plays, trying to bait Catra into speaking out of turn--but she’d waited this long. She’d sit here as long as it took._

_A small eternity later, Shadow Weaver turned to look at her, flat and disappointed. Letting her mask speak for her. Catra crossed her arms, scowling at the floor, and Shadow Weaver drew nearer, looming over her._

_“I didn’t do anything,” Catra said through her teeth. Shadow Weaver was doing that thing where she declined to speak first, and Catra had to guess if it was a ‘don’t speak unless spoken to’ silence or a ‘start talking’ silence. She wasn’t immediately enveloped in magic, so it seemed like this time she’d made the right call._

_“Oh Catra,” Shadow Weaver sighed. “Must we always go through this?”_

_“Yes, we absolutely must,” said Catra._

_Ah. There was the magic. Only the shadows--a warning. She should back down._

_“Right, my bad. No sarcasm. I forgot,” she said sarcastically._

_She sucked in a breath as the shadows were boosted by the Black Garnet, a paralyzing buzz that ran over her skin and contorted her limbs until she was laying on the table like another cadaver._

_“You know perfectly well what you did wrong, Catra.”_

_“I can’t help it if she’s slower than me,” she hissed, squirming a little. The shadows weren’t wrapped so tight that she was frozen, but it was restrictive--like being wrapped in a blanket, arms pinned to her sides, tail bent at an uncomfortable angle. “What do you want me to do, lose to make you feel better?”_

_“I_ want _you to stop holding Adora back,” said Shadow Weaver. “Her time was a full thirteen seconds slower than her last run at this course.”_

_“So what? I’m supposed to make her magically run faster? I always beat her at running! I can’t help it if she’s slower than me!”_

_The lightning running along her skin intensified for a moment, like a squeeze from a thousand needles, and her limbs locked up further. She grunted and fell silent._

_“Try again.”_

_“She runs faster when she’s having fun,” said Catra, clenching her jaw. “Ask Cobalt. If she’s chasing me, she’s got something to aim for.”_

_“An endurance run is not a race, Catra. If you push her to exhaustion too early, her time suffers. Endurance runs are intended to teach self-discipline, though I suppose I can hardly expect_ you _to understand such a thing.”_

_Catra bit off a comment about having enough discipline in her life already. Shadow Weaver would take it as a challenge. And more sarcasm._

_“Nothing to say?” Shadow Weaver asked, a sneer audible in her tone. Taunting. Trying to bait Catra into saying something disrespectful enough to warrant another zap._

_Honestly, Catra didn’t know why she bothered with the pretense. They both knew it didn’t matter how well-behaved she was; she’d get zapped regardless. She was flat-out incapable of following orders, meeting expectations, being a good soldier. Some people just weren’t meant for that shit. Catra was rotten inside, and just selfish enough to be smug she’d made it this far._

_“No, Shadow Weaver,” she said simply, staring up at the high ceilings. The words had a bitter taste on her tongue, but what else could she say? What else could she_ do?

_The lightning lanced through her body, much stronger than before, and she couldn’t quite suppress a scream. She hadn’t been prepared that time. She was complying, she was playing the game, what had she done wrong?_

_“I’m--I’m sorry,” she choked out, when it lessened for a moment. “I was just messing around. I was trying to make it fun. For her.”_

_“I expect nothing better from you,” said Shadow Weaver, voice full of disgust. “You are_ always _‘messing around’. A disappointment. A lazy, self-obsessed waste of resources attached to Adora’s side like a parasite I cannot excise. I suppose I should have known.”_

_“Known wh--” she bit off another scream, groaning into the pain instead. Shadow Weaver’s clammy fingers tipped her head down; she’d had enough range of motion to arch in pain, but with her chin caught between Shadow Weaver’s thumb and forefinger the only thing she could do was tremble._

_“Known that you would attempt to drag Adora into whatever passing, frivolous notions distract you from your training. You are going to apply yourself from now on. If you hold Adora back any further, she may become useless herself. And then where would_ you _be?”_

_She couldn’t shake, not really, but she could feel the pain of a shudder running against the lightning. If Adora were useless, if she were treated like Catra was treated now--she couldn’t even imagine what would happen to her. How much farther she could fall into pain and terror._

_“Dead, right?” she heard herself ask, like listening to someone else’s voice._

_“Do you truly think that’s the worst I could do to you?”_

_Shadow Weaver’s hands, one still crooked around Catra’s chin, were glowing with concentrated magic, the kind that burned like holding a stun baton to your skin. Catra’s whole body felt cold. She couldn’t find the anger that kept her warm, kept her insulated from the fear._

_If Adora were useless, Catra would_ pray _Shadow Weaver only killed her._

_She really was pathetic._

_“No, Shadow Weaver,” she whispered._

_“You really are pathetic, aren’t you?” asked Shadow Weaver, releasing Catra’s chin as she unconsciously echoed Catra’s own thoughts. “All base instinct and impulse. You know I do this for your own good, don’t you? I’m teaching you how to be strong. How to control yourself.”_

_She didn’t feel strong, pinned to a table by shadows and lightning. The magic twisted her back into a sitting position, and now that she felt less exposed and vulnerable, her emotions returned in a violent surge, heating her entire body like a head rush._

_She wanted to follow her instincts, to lose control. She wanted to spite Shadow Weaver by unleashing every caged impulse and desire simultaneously. She didn’t care about her ‘own good’; she wanted to be bad, if that’s what it took, if that’s what it meant._

_She forced her expression to stillness, staring into the middle distance, and imagined tearing out Shadow Weaver’s throat with her teeth. “Yes, Shadow Weaver. I won’t do it again. I’m sorry.”_

_“Good girl,” said Shadow Weaver, and the rare acknowledgement paired with the relief of the magic slipping away made her collapse to the floor, unable to catch herself in time. “Now get out of my sight.”_

_She scrambled away as fast as she could, leaving furrows in the floor as she skidded around corners, racing for the tightest, darkest space she could find._

_She wasn’t sure how long she hid there before Adora found her. Long enough to miss dinner, apparently. Adora smelled like sweat and exertion, and the trembling in her limbs made it clear she’d been working to get faster. To beat Catra next time._

_Should she be relieved, or angry? Adora thought she’d been beaten because she hadn’t tried hard enough, that Catra could never beat her if she worked her hardest. But if Adora got faster, Shadow Weaver would still think she was_ useful. _Catra would be safe._

_Neither of them spoke for a long time, just huddling together in the darkness. Alone, but not alone; the comfort of seclusion without the emptiness of isolation._

_“You did really well today,” Adora said finally. “I know you hate endurance running, but it was really cool to watch. You’re so fast.”_

_Catra didn’t say anything, gratitude and pride warring with the desire to tell Adora just what had brought her to this darkened corner._

_But as far as Adora was concerned, it was only words. Being frozen. An idle threat, a cuff or slap here or there like the other cadets could expect from their commanding officers. And if Adora didn’t know, Catra didn’t want her to. She’d never say things like Catra was cool, or fast, never look at her with admiration. Only pity. Only guilt. She’d know that Catra_ wanted _to be better than her, even if it was just at one thing. One little thing._

_She’d know how weak Catra really was._

_Adora seemed to take her silence in stride though, prattling on about whatever training exercises she was undertaking to ‘catch up’. Catra listened without processing, ignoring the words and just letting Adora’s voice wash over her, clinging desperately to the validation she’d been offered._

_Adora thought she was cool. Adora thought she was fast._

_Shadow Weaver had said she did something good._

_It would be enough. It had to be. The rest of it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except making it through this. One day they’d be in charge, and everyone would see what she could really do. What_ they _could do, together._

_She leaned into Adora’s shoulder and closed her eyes._

_One day._

\- - -

“--don’t know!” Adora’s voice snapped. “I told you, she’s never done that before!” 

Catra groaned, folding her ears back. Her head was killing her, and Adora was fucking _loud._

“Catra?” asked Adora, much softer, much more quietly. Slowly, she registered the feeling of arms around her, a warm body pressed against hers, and she almost panicked before she recognized Adora’s scent.

She groaned again, curling in on herself. She was sitting in Adora’s lap, and there were other voices talking, but she couldn’t hear anything over the throbbing of her pulse in her ears. The hum of a motor probably meant they were on another skiff.

“Hey,” Adora murmured, “how are you feeling?” 

“What happened?” she managed, squinting one eye open to peer up at her. She wasn’t covered in blood or anything, which was probably a good sign. 

“You passed out. Why did you hold onto him so long? You couldn’t breathe!” 

“I was _trying_ to give you time to transform,” said Catra. She almost rolled her eyes, but reconsidered as her head gave another throb. “I meant _after_ I passed out, dumbass.” 

“Oh,” said Adora, who at least sounded sheepish. “Yeah, okay, that--that would have made sense. Uh. Well, I kind of just picked you up and ran until Glimmer could come get us.”

“Did we complete _any_ of the mission?” Catra groaned. 

“Well, I’m here!” 

Catra’s other eye snapped open, widening as she took in a grinning Scorpia, piloting the skiff. “...Scorpia. How much have they told you?” 

“Not a lot, actually!” said Scorpia, though her grin didn’t falter. “They said something happened, and you were in trouble, and that they wanted to help.” 

“And you just… believed them,” said Catra, staring at her. 

“They were very earnest! And then you really _were_ in trouble, so I thought, either they’re kidnapping you or there’s something big going on, and if they’re kidnapping you you’ll need backup. Should I start knocking people out?” 

“No, no,” Catra sighed, letting her head flop back against Adora’s shoulder. “I’m glad they could convince you. The plan was for Glimmer to spring Adora out of prison while I went and got you and Entrapta, but _somebody_ can’t act to save her life. Or, apparently, mine.” 

Adora huffed indignantly, but didn’t say anything, squeezing her a little closer. 

She should probably be putting up more of a fuss about being held like this, but frankly, her head hurt too much. And it felt… nice. So fuck it. She had an excuse.

“So… we’re defecting?” asked Scorpia. 

“Yeah,” said Catra. “Listen, something happened the night before last. Hordak found out about Shadow Weaver.” 

“What?” asked Scorpia. “Oh gosh, I’ve been such a bad friend, I just thought you were avoiding me--”

“My future-self got sucked through a time-hole and lectured me about feelings for like three hours and then dragged me to Bright Moon,” said Catra. 

Scorpia stared at her for longer than was probably safe for the person steering the skiff.

“Bright Moon?” she repeated eventually, blinking. “And… and you _went?”_

“In my defense, it turns out Shadow Weaver decided to hide out there, and I _really_ wanted to kick her ass.”

“Oh. _Oh._ So you were in Bright Moon all of yesterday?” 

“Pretty much,” said Catra, shrugging. “She kind of signed me up for the Rebellion, but it’s not like it can be any worse than here, right?” 

“You _do_ hate it here…” Scorpia said consideringly, rubbing her chin with one massive pincer. “But then, why did you come back? With princesses?”

“Well, I _wanted_ to go alone, but these morons thought they knew better,” Catra huffed. 

“I’m still glad I went,” said Adora, making a face at her. “For all we know, my acting was an excuse and he was gonna torture you anyway. If he’d been the only one that could breathe in there--” 

“Oh, yeah, Adora’s a First One,” said Catra, ignoring Adora’s spluttering at the interruption. “And old-me has kids.”

“She _does?”_ Scorpia gasped, eyes sparkling. “How many? What are their names? Are they just the cutest things you’ve ever seen in your life, because that’s what I’m picturing.” 

“Yes!” said Bow, grinning so wide his face looked like it was going to split in half. “Don’t worry, I got pictures! Their names are Adam and Cyra and I love them so much--” 

“Pictures? When the fuck did you take pictures?”

“When you guys were talking to future-Adora,” said Glimmer, waving her hand dismissively. 

“Adora was there too?” asked Scorpia, slowing the skiff. “Is that why this one is actually being nice to Catra?” 

“I’m always nice to Catra! She’s the mean one!” Adora protested, starting to bridle but deflating moments later. “Okay, no, I’ve been terrible.”

“At least you finally admit it,” said Scorpia. “You owe her a whole lotta apologies, She-Ra.” 

“We can ‘communicate’ later,” said Catra, her head finally calm enough to roll her eyes. “Did you guys get the coordinates?” 

“Obviously,” said Glimmer.

“So why are we slowing down?” 

“The skiff isn’t exactly seaworthy, you know? We’re going to--well, Seaworthy.” 

“Oh, great,” Catra groaned. “More boats.”

“Oh, what a surprise, the cat hates water,” said Glimmer. 

“I hate _boats,”_ Catra hissed. 

“She gets seasick,” Adora explained, almost apologetically. Catra smacked her in the face with her tail. “Also, her fur takes forever to dry and saltwater is especially annoying. She’s good at swimming, she just doesn’t like it.” 

“The ocean is even worse than the water hazards in training,” said Catra, making a face. “Give me chlorine over saltwater any day.” No clear escape routes, especially on the open water. If they were attacked, their options were limited--and Catra _hated_ being limited. Plus, the salt _itched._

“Ugh, no way. It made my hair turn _green,”_ said Adora, wrinkling her nose.

“That’s because you never rinsed it out afterwards.”

“Why shower when we were already clean?” Adora huffed indignantly, moving one hand from under Catra’s knees to gesture sharply. 

“To keep your stupid hair from changing colors, and get rid of the _smell.”_

“You _always_ complained about how I smelled after training. If I didn’t shower, I was ‘sweaty and gross’, if I did I ‘smelled weird’, if we had to swim or got hit by something--”

“You used way too much soap!” Catra protested. “It was like sitting next to an open bottle of cleaning supplies!”

“Right, so if you were going to complain anyway, then why waste time ‘rinsing’ when I could be getting _actual_ work done?” 

“Uh, for a fucking _break?_ Why are you like this?” 

“Motivated, or smelly?” asked Adora, grinning down at her.

“Have they been like this the whole time?” asked Scorpia. 

“The cuddling is new,” said Bow. “Well, apparently not _new-_ new, but--”

“I _told_ you, it was tactical! We didn’t cuddle!” said Catra.

“We did sometimes,” said Adora. “Just not like, while we were sleeping where people could see us. That’d be dumb.”

“Why would that be dumb?” asked Scorpia. Adora blinked at her, but Catra just sighed. 

“Because, Scorpia, most cadets don’t _cuddle._ The only time most of us touched each other was in battle simulations, or maybe a friendly punch on the shoulder.” 

“Or wrestling!” Adora chimed in. “Sometimes tickling. But you couldn’t seem like you wanted it to be happening, ‘cause that wasn’t allowed.” 

Scorpia was looking at them strangely. “Says who? Nobody ever told me I couldn’t touch people.” 

“I mean, I tell you not to touch me all the time,” said Catra. “Maybe they did and you just didn’t listen.” 

“Or maybe it was different for us,” said Adora. Her face didn’t change, but Catra could feel the heaviness settling over her. Shit. She pressed a little more of her weight into Adora, trying to ground her.

“Because I was a princess?” asked Scorpia. 

“Maybe,” said Catra, shrugging. “It was never explicit, anyway. It was just, if they saw you hugging or something, the other cadets would make fun of you. Or try to start something. And the instructors would say it was a distraction, or a weakness, and you’d get punished.” 

“For _hugging?”_ asked Bow. He sounded horrified. 

“If it went on too long, yeah,” said Adora. “I… when I first came to Bright Moon, I was kind of scared by the way you guys touched each other. Started touching me. It felt like it wasn’t allowed.”

“You didn’t say anything,” said Glimmer, upset, but probably not with Adora. Adora shook her head.

“I liked it,” she explained. “I really liked it. I just--I also felt like I was going to get you in trouble. But everything was different, so maybe that was different too? Plus your mom let you touch her the same way, so it _had_ to be okay. And the feeling went away, eventually.”

“If it was so dangerous, why did you two cuddle?” asked Bow, meeting Catra’s eyes. She looked away pointedly. 

“Well, usually it was because Catra was hurt,” said Adora, a little hoarser than she had been. She swallowed, and Catra was near enough to watch her throat bob. “It was the only time she’d let me, and if she was--I just needed to. I didn’t really--nobody hurt me like that. Even in training. So I was stupid. I thought--I don’t know what I thought. I guess I wasn’t thinking. I tried not to.” 

“Mostly you thought it was the other cadets,” said Catra, picking at the claws on one hand to give herself something tactile to focus on that wasn’t Adora’s arms around her. “You always asked who you had to beat up.” 

“Sometimes you even told me,” Adora chuckled. “Though it was usually to let me know not to bother, because you’d already kicked their ass.”

“I hated it when you tried to fight my battles for me,” said Catra, because fuck, she was already in this deep. “Like you thought I couldn’t stand up for myself. Sometimes you’d just--I’d tell you I’d had it handled, or I would have won something, and you’d just be like ‘sure’ and brush me off. It was _infuriating.”_

Adora shifted a little, so she was looking at Catra’s face. “Of course you could stand up for yourself. You’re _Catra.”_

“Didn’t feel like you thought that,” Catra muttered. Still didn’t. Adora had picked her up and run instead of transforming and finishing Hordak off once and for all. Her priorities skewed towards protecting Catra when she didn’t _need_ protecting.

“You let her cuddle you when you were hurt,” Glimmer pointed out, like that negated any of it. “You said before that if somebody was weak or they got beat up or something, people would just hurt them more. For what they’d been through. So why let Adora see you like that?” 

Catra didn’t respond. 

What could she say? That sometimes she needed to be held or she’d break apart? That Adora needed to hold her to reassure herself Catra was even _alive?_ That Adora was the only one she could trust not to hurt her when she was vulnerable? 

They’d been enemies for so long. Even sitting like this should feel wrong, but it was just warm. Comforting. It made her ache in ways she didn’t want to articulate.

“We looked out for each other,” said Adora, unconsciously pulling Catra a little nearer. Catra curled into it slightly, so it seemed the movement was what was pushing her face towards Adora’s neck and not her own decisions. “Sometimes… sometimes that was the only thing that made it feel like it was worth it. Like maybe one day we could do stuff like that without getting in trouble for it.”

“Turns out we had different ideas on how to _get_ to ‘one day’,” said Catra, “but we both knew what we wanted.” 

“What did you want?” asked Scorpia. She sounded a little choked up, but Catra didn’t have the energy to figure out why. 

Neither of them answered, for a moment. It was as difficult to explain as Catra seeking comfort in Adora’s arms. They’d never verbalized it, never let it solidify beyond ‘we’re going to run this place’ or ‘one day we’ll make the rules’. To Catra, it had always been about power. Shadow Weaver couldn’t lay a finger on them if they outranked her, and once they outranked _everyone_ they’d _really_ be secure. They could rewrite the world to their liking, dispense justice where necessary, not just survive but _live._

She was starting to understand that that hadn’t been how Adora saw it, though. Sure, she’d wanted to rise through the ranks, and to protect Catra, but she hadn’t seemed to process yet that she had needed protecting, too. Her ambition had been built on her need to be useful, to be everything that was expected of her. Adora wanted to run the Horde because she thought they could save Etheria, that there was some fantastical endgame that found them living peacefully, everyone’s demands of her finally appeased.

It had been the same; it was still the same. The paths they saw & had taken diverged dramatically, but they’d always been heading for the same destination. The same deep-rooted desire.

“To be safe,” Adora mumbled finally, like she was embarrassed. She should be, frankly; that was a huge weakness to admit, and it was Catra’s too. She tried to be angry about it, but instead just felt sick to her stomach.

Old-Adora had told her younger self that it was okay to want things, like Adora didn’t know. How far did that extend? Did she think she wasn’t _allowed_ to want things? To want to be safe? It was a paradox; if wanting was dangerous, wanting safety was self-defeating. 

How much of Adora’s pain had Catra missed while she was hiding her own wounds?

“I really didn’t think it was possible to hate the Horde more than I already did,” said Glimmer. “But I am going to fuck Hordak _up_ when I see him next.”

“I mean, okay, I’m all for that,” said Scorpia, “but I think this one is more Shadow Weaver’s handiwork. Is she still in Bright Moon?” 

“Ugh, yes,” said Glimmer, making a face. “I’d feel bad fucking her up, she’s kind of a prisoner.”

“Did she just--want to see Adora?” Scorpia asked haltingly, and Catra was a little gratified to see she was scowling. See? It wasn’t an unreasonable assumption. 

And maybe it was nice that Scorpia cared on her behalf, or whatever. 

“She wanted me to heal her,” said Adora. Catra didn’t look up at her, but she could feel the tension take hold at the thought of Shadow Weaver. “She got hurt escaping, and she knew she could get me to fix it. She tried to sell out the Horde.” 

“Tried?” Scorpia echoed. “Oh! Catra must have told you everything already.”

“What, you just assume I turned full-on traitor?” Catra asked indignantly. “Immediately?” 

“I mean, yeah,” said Scorpia. “Especially if future-you took you out of the Fright Zone instead of just staging a coup. It’s not like you were happy there.” 

“I’m not happy anywhere unless I’m destroying something.”

“Really? Because you look pretty happy right now,” said Bow. 

“Don’t draw attention to it, Bow,” said Adora. Catra could hear the grin in her voice, and smacked her with her tail again. “It’s rude.” 

“Yeah, Bow,” said Catra, as brattily as possible. “It’s _rude.”_

“Okay, okay,” said Bow, holding his hands up in a clear surrender despite his smile. 

_“Anyway,_ Shadow Weaver didn’t have any chips to bargain with, so I think it’s safe to say we have a handle on that situation,” said Glimmer. “It’s not fair that Adora’s the only one who got to hit her, though.” 

_“You_ hit Shadow Weaver?” Scorpia asked Adora in apparent disbelief. “What happened to being her favorite?” 

“It’s not like I _wanted_ to be her favorite,” said Adora, almost defensively. “But, no, it was future-me. Shadow Weaver said--she said--”

She broke off, grip tightening on Catra until it was almost painful. Her jaw clenched so hard that her scars stood out stark white. 

“She told Adora she should drown the babies,” said Catra, so Adora didn’t have to. Adora stayed tense beneath her. “Presumably to piss her off, but I think it might have worked a little better than she was anticipating because old-Adora smacked the _shit_ out of her.”

“The _babies?”_ Glimmer repeated incredulously. “Okay, that’s it. I’m going to kill her.” 

“Glimmer, that’s a war crime,” said Bow, though he looked torn, as if he agreed with the sentiment. 

“They’re so--they were so small,” said Adora, breath hissing through her teeth. Her hand slid from Catra’s shoulder to the back of her neck as she reeled Catra in even closer, pressing her head to the hollow of her throat protectively. “They were--helpless, and soft, and--it wasn’t their fault that she doesn’t have a fucking heart--” 

And Catra got the feeling this wasn’t just about the babies anymore. She pushed on Adora’s hand, leaning back to look her in the eye. Adora’s expression was stormy, distant, like she wasn’t really there. 

“Hey,” she said, snapping her fingers in front of Adora’s nose. She went cross-eyed looking at Catra’s hand. “They’re safe now. They were never in danger. Old-you wouldn’t have brought them in there if she thought they’d get hurt.” 

Adora’s face shifted to something almost guilty. “She almost didn’t take them. I wanted to have Bow and Glimmer watch them, but she said… she wanted to prove something.” 

“Did she tell you what?” asked Glimmer. “It had better be a pretty good something. No offense to alternate-timeline-you or anything, Adora, but that’s not really the kind of person I’d want to have around kids, even Catra’s.” 

“Kind of?” said Adora, finally starting to uncoil. Catra settled back against her shoulder so she could see the others. “She said, um--well, it’s kind of--” She glanced at Catra as if for permission. 

Catra raised an eyebrow expectantly. She didn’t think old-Adora had explained that they were also _her_ babies, but somehow she couldn’t picture an outright lie convincing Adora.

“She said she wanted to prove Catra was happy,” said Adora, flushing a little. Catra’s ears folded back. Ah. Okay. That would do it. “That she, uh, deserved to be.” 

“Didn’t really get that point across,” mumbled Catra, instead of acknowledging it directly. 

“Well, no,” Adora agreed. “I don’t know if Shadow Weaver can understand things like ‘happiness’ or ‘caring about people’.” 

“Is it a war crime to kick her ass?” Glimmer asked Bow. “Just a little?” 

“Still yes,” said Bow. “Scorpia, could you bring us down? If we get any closer someone might sound the alarm.”

“Oh, you got it,” said Scorpia, drawing the skiff to a stop. “Um, what’s the plan here?” 

“Don’t worry,” said Adora, grinning up at her. “We know a guy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SUMMARY OF MIDDLE SECTION: Catra won a race, Shadow Weaver was unhappy about it, and some fucked up things were said and done. Catra apologized to stave off electrocution & hates herself for it a little. Afterwards, she hides in a corner until Adora (who's been dealing with losing) finds her, and they sit together in miserable solidarity while Catra reminds herself this won't last forever. 
> 
> i actually don't have a lot to say about this chapter aside from there should be more fics that capitalize on adora being an alien. given that etheria's kind of a colonial melting pot idk how big the discrepancies in species like, breathing requirements would be, but it's safe to assume it's homogenized over the millennia through interbreeding, no? with some aquatic exceptions, of course. although light hope having to bring Adora through implies there's no remaining descendants of the first ones on etheria, which begs _several_ questions, such as: does she-ra have to be purebred eternian to use the sword they built? if not, were the first ones that withdrew from etheria prior to the planned usage of the heart allowed to take their families? were they not allowed to intermarry etherians in the first place a la the Ulster Plantation? do i need to stop being bitter about the Ulster Plantation? anyway it's not defined in canon so it's free game and _i_ say she can breathe in the scary atmosphere disruption zone


	4. Seaworthy

Catra wasn’t sure what kind of sailor could be found in a place called ‘the Drunken Oarfish’, but she was inclined to think it wasn’t the kind she’d prefer. 

The tavern was rowdy and boisterous, with groups singing shanties and playing cards, clamoring at the bar for more drinks. She pressed her ears back, half from anxiety and half to keep out the _noise._

“I’ll ask around,” said Bow. “You guys try to keep out of sight, okay?” 

“Is it the princesses thing or the Horde uniforms thing?” asked Catra. 

“I mean, both, really,” said Glimmer, with a helpless shrug. “Seaworthy is controlled by the Rebellion, but that doesn’t mean bounty hunters won’t try their luck.” 

“I’d like to see them try,” said Adora, eyeing a cloaked figure suspiciously as it drank with an unfurled proboscis. 

“I wouldn’t,” said Catra, scowling at her. “Are you kidding me? It’s like you wake up in the morning and say ask yourself what the best way to get captured is.”

“I haven’t been captured that much,” Adora protested, frowning. 

“Let’s see, tweedledee and tweedledumbass caught you within hours of leaving the Fright Zone,” said Catra, pointing at Glimmer, “I’ve caught you what, three times? Four? Guess it depends on how you define ‘captured’.”

“Okay, but I got out of all of those,” she huffed.

“Did you? Looks like Sparkles here still has you on a pretty short leash.” 

“It’s _called_ friendship,” said Glimmer, gritting her teeth. 

“They let me go, anyway,” said Adora. “I chose to fight for the Rebellion, same as you.” 

Catra hummed dismissively. _I let you go, too,_ she thought to herself, trying to keep the bitter twist in her gut from showing on her face. _When they gave you the sword and cut you loose, you_ stayed _with them._

It wasn’t productive. She knew--she _knew_ Adora had other motivations. That she hadn’t simply been choosing between Catra and two relative strangers. But it still hurt, and the more she thought about it the more she worried she’d do something stupid, like tell Adora how it made her feel. 

She shook her head, doing a sweep of the bar. A few potential eavesdroppers, but they hadn’t said much that their outfits wouldn’t have already betrayed.

“Besides,” said Glimmer, heedless of any danger, “we captured you, too!” 

“Yeah, once,” Catra snorted. “And you know I could have gotten out of that at any time, right? I literally just stuck around to mess with you.” 

“Really?” asked Scorpia, looking relieved. “Oh, thank goodness. I was so scared.” 

“Oh, as if,” Glimmer huffed. “Your whole plan depended on staying captured? I don’t buy it. It’s not like you got any information out of us.”

“Well, I learned about the recharging, didn’t I?” asked Catra. “And that you were stupid enough to believe Enrapta was fucking dead, for some reason.” 

“She was in the vent system to the vehicle bay,” Adora said quietly. “The ones for transporting hazardous materials.”

Catra blinked. “Are you telling me she was in the chambers when they were purged?”

“Yeah. I didn’t… I still don’t know how she survived.” Adora’s eyes tightened at the corners, and if she’d had ears like Catra’s they’d be flat against her head. “It was my fault. If I had just--” 

“Adora, it wasn’t your fault,” Glimmer interrupted, laying a hand on her arm. Catra tracked the movement, the way Adora pressed into the contact, letting herself be assured. “I mean yeah, you shouldn’t have tried to sacrifice yourself for me, especially with no backup, but you were trying to get them out of there.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t,” Adora said shortly. “I sent them down a track that could have killed them, and I left--I left her behind.” 

“We thought she was dead,” Glimmer murmured, though it sounded like it was hurting her to think of. Catra narrowed her eyes. Where had this grief been when it was useful to her? When she could have exploited it beyond bluffing her way out of captivity? How had Entrapta earned this remorse--through sacrifice? Through utility?

Why had Catra been so easy to leave behind, unmourned?

“But I didn’t go back for her,” said Adora. She shifted her gaze from Glimmer to Catra, meeting her eyes with poorly-concealed pain and guilt. Catra’s ears lowered slightly, but she didn’t break eye contact. She was half afraid Adora could read her thoughts, could see the envy and desperation festering like an old would under her skin. “I thought it was too late.” 

“Well, it’s not!” said Scorpia, far too loud. Adora startled, raising the sword reflexively before apparently realizing it was only Scorpia. “She’s alive and safe, and we’re gonna get her out of there as soon as we complete this mission!”

“Yeah, hooray,” said Catra, raising a fist in sarcastic jubilation. “Right after we finished moving all her shit to the Fright Zone.”

“Ooh,” said Scorpia, wincing. “Do you think we can get it all past Hordak?”

Catra’s eyes narrowed as a few of the nearby patrons stilled. Could be nothing.

“We got past him, didn’t we?” she said casually, watching the twitch of one’s hands. “If we can manage two Force Captains, I think we can manage some lab equipment.”

One of the patrons moved their hand slowly to a blade hanging at their hip, and Catra groaned dramatically. 

“I thought the good guys fought _less,”_ she complained to Adora, hand darting out to twist the patron’s wrist away from their hilt. 

“No, they _train_ less,” said Adora, grimacing back. She twisted the sword just in time to parry a blow from behind her. 

“Horde soldiers!” yelled one of the other patrons at the table Catra had been watching, shooting to their feet. 

“We’re not--” Glimmer tried, ducking out of the way of a fist with a yelp. 

“We’re not with the Horde!” said Scorpia, tail lashing out and knocking another assailant unconscious. “Oh gosh, sorry--”

“Three of you didn’t even change out of your uniforms!” yelled a caprine man with one eye, hefting a warhammer over his shoulder. 

“They’re comfortable!” Adora yelled back, pressing one shoulder into Catra’s. 

They fell into a rhythm as more and more tavern-goers attempted to apprehend them, guarding one another’s blindspots, moving in tandem to stun instead of kill. It was easy, familiar--like a training simulation that pitted them against other cadets, instead of disposable enemies. 

Once upon a time, Catra had hated those exercises, loathed the restrictions on her claws and teeth. If she couldn’t aim to kill, how did it even count as training? 

Maybe this had been how; this simple give-and-take that she slipped into like an old glove, the automatic way she and Adora could adjust to one another’s movements. Maybe if the other cadets had ever given a shit about Catra, she could have had this with them, too--maybe they could have been a halfway decent team. 

“Left!” barked Adora, leaping over a kick from an especially stupid pirate. Catra snatched their ankle as they missed Adora, using it to jerk them forward and off-balance. Another down. 

She could hear Adora laughing as they were menaced by a trio of sea elves, feel her ponytail whipping against Catra’s shoulder as she moved her head. The sword was a blur of blue and gold in her peripherals, changing shape as Adora willed it. Another down. Down, down.

Catra grinned as she leaned out of the way of another punch, adrenaline coursing through her in a heady rush. She couldn’t remember the last time a fight had been fun, without the lingering edge of pain that had accompanied her battles with Adora. Princess Prom, maybe. 

It was the same feeling of exhilaration, the mutual understanding between her and Adora as they’d shared in their dance. Even down to the teasing, as Adora yelled something about having taken out more enemies and Catra just laughed at her. But the anger was _gone._

“If you wanted them all dead, I could win!” she shouted, grinning over her shoulder.

“We don’t want anybody dead!” Glimmer yelled from atop the bar, kicking someone in the face. “Where _the hell_ is Bow?” 

“I’m over here!” came Bow’s voice, pitched above the roar of the crowd. “We need to get out before--” 

“Avast!” roared a vaguely familiar pirate, leaping onto the bar beside Glimmer. “Stay your swords, my friends!” 

“We’re not your friends!” someone in the crowd shouted. The pirate pretended not to hear them. 

“These are my crewmates, fellow members of the Rebellion! They would never bring the Horde to our shores!” 

“That one attacked the Sea Gate!” someone yelled, pointing at Scorpia. 

“Hey! I was there too!” Catra protested immediately. 

“Oh,” said the one who yelled. “Yeah, the cat was there too!” 

The shouting picked up again, and Adora helped Catra fend off another wave of attacks with an unnecessarily sanctimonious scowl.

“Calm yourselves, fellow patrons!” the pirate on the bar insisted. “You have it on my word as a sailor, they’ve left the Horde!” 

“Then they’re deserters!” 

“There’ll be a bounty!” 

“They’re with the Rebellion!” Glimmer shrieked, fists blazing with magic. The clamor died down slightly, everyone’s focus shifting to the princess at the display of power. “Anyone who harms them will be arrested for treason!” 

A rash of muttering broke out. Catra could only hear snatches of conversations, but none of them sounded very happy with the development. 

“Now if you will _excuse me,”_ Glimmer fumed, teleporting off of the bar and to the door, shoving aside the patrons who had clumsily tried to block them in. “We are on an important mission! Sea Hawk!” 

The bartop pirate--Sea Hawk, apparently--lit up, springing with too much grace and landing awkwardly as he leapt from the bar. “Onward, crew! To adventure!”

Catra backed out of the tavern, one shoulder still pressed against Adora’s so no one could get the drop on them. No one seemed to be injured, but Glimmer was fuming and Bow looked decidedly ruffled, trailing Sea Hawk with an anxious sort of admiration as he began climbing onto a stack of crates. 

“What’s he doing?” Catra asked Adora, leaning nearer to keep her voice low. 

“Oh no,” Adora groaned. 

Sea Hawk produced an accordion, apparently from thin air, and began playing a jaunty little tune. 

“What is he _doing?”_ hissed Catra, turning wide-eyed to Glimmer and Scorpia. The latter looked delighted, but the former had buried her head in her hands. 

“He’s singing a shanty,” said Adora. “Just… just keep walking.” 

Well, don’t mind if she did.

_“Once upon a time at sea,_

_“A sailor took to piracy,_

_“His rebel heart untempered by the foam!”_ Sea Hawk bellowed, leaping from crate to crate and spinning in ridiculous, exaggerated moves. 

“Why is this happening?” asked Catra, but Adora just shook her head and grimaced.

“ _His flotsam-jetsam enemy,_

_“The Horde of Bright Moon’s enmity,_

_“A scourge upon the shores he called his home!”_ With a flourish, Sea Hawk dismounted the crates, sidling up to Scorpia as if she could join in on the chorus when he was clearly making it up as he went along.

_“Oh, adventure comes to those who call,_

_“Who hoist their sails and brave the squall,_

_“Adventure comes, I’ll follow where it go-oes!”_ he belted, twirling around and handing a bewildered but eager Scorpia the accordion. 

“She doesn’t have fingers!” said Glimmer, stamping her foot. “Sea Hawk--”

“ _I chase it ‘cross the roaring tides,_

_“No matter if it runs or hides,_

_“Adventure comes, and I’m the one it kno-ows!”_

“It’s that one, right?” Adora asked, pointing at a ship in the harbor. “Please tell me it’s that one.” Sea Hawk didn’t answer, leaping onto a mooring post and flexing dramatically. 

_“The sailor met friends old and new,_

_“And set out on the bonnie blue,_

_“To find a father lost to time’s embrace!_

_“They followed as his faithful crew,_

_“Their love for him no limits knew,_

_“Their quarry lived and breathed within the chase!”_

“Okay, that’s two verses, that’s enough!” Glimmer said loudly, snatching him from the mooring post and teleporting him to the deck of the ship Adora had pointed out. 

Catra thought for a moment he might actually stop, but apparently he was just gearing up for another chorus, because he slung an arm around Glimmer’s shoulders and started fucking singing again.

_“Yes, adventure comes to those who call!_

_“Who beat the odds and still stand tall,_

_“Adventure comes, I’ll follow where it goes!”_ he crooned, clenching a fist to the sky as if he were pulling one of the moons from it.

“Okay, start disembarking,” said Glimmer, waving the rest of them on. “He’s… he’s got more in him.”

_“A hunter knows to choose its prey,_

_“I hunt the dawn of every day,_

_“Adventure comes! And I’m the one it kno-ows!”_

“Enough!” Catra shouted, jumping onto his shoulders and knocking him onto the deck. “If I’m not going to put up with it from Scorpia I’m sure as hell not putting up with it from _you!”_

“Madam, please,” said Sea Hawk, voice muffled against the wood, “you’re crushing the handsomest face in Etheria.” 

_“Good,”_ she hissed, “maybe that’ll get it to _shut up!”_

“But Catra--” Bow protested. She hissed at him too.

“No singing! What is this, a marching drill? Just shut up and make the boat go!”

“There are other reasons to sing,” said Glimmer, making absolutely no move to help Sea Hawk. 

“Listen Sparkles, this isn’t my first time trapped on a ship with a musical moron. If you let him sing now, he will _never_ stop.” 

“You liked it some of the time!” said Scorpia. 

“It is _bad enough_ being stuck on a boat in the middle of the fucking _ocean_ without being _sung at!_ Just concentrate on keeping this thing afloat, alright?” 

“Already seasick, huh?” Bow asked sympathetically. 

“I’m sick of your buddy’s shit,” growled Catra, letting him up when he started to whimper piteously. “I’m going to go stand over there, and none of you are going to bother me. Got it?” 

“Aye aye, Captain!” said Scorpia, saluting. 

_“Force_ C--uh--” Catra faltered for a moment. She didn’t really have a title anymore. Deserter Catra. Rebel Catra. 

Failure Catra. 

“Just Catra,” she mumbled, turning away. “None of that nautical bullshit.” 

“You got it, boss!” Scorpia said cheerily. “I mean, you got it, Catra!” 

She leaned over the railing, taking a deep, steadying breath. Fine. Whatever. She wasn’t a Force Captain anymore. That was _her_ choice. She decided to leave. She decided to try to be… happy. 

When was that going to kick in? How much more discomfort and awkwardness did she have to endure before she could actually reap the benefits of all this ‘being good’ bullshit? 

She stayed that way for long enough that Seaworthy had vanished into the distance by the time Adora apparently ran out of sailing duties and came to stand beside her. 

“I hate this,” Catra groaned, head dangling over the side of the ship. 

“Keep your eyes on the horizon,” said Adora, patting her on the shoulder. “And don’t throw up on me.” 

“‘M gonna aim for your stupid ponytail,” she muttered. “Where the fuck is Scorpia? How can she abandon me in my hour of need like this?” 

“Learning how to tie knots,” said Adora. “It’s actually a great way to keep Sea Hawk busy, we’ll need to thank her.”

Catra groaned again, pressing her forehead into the railing. 

“Are, um…” 

Catra rolled her head slightly, raising an eyebrow when she found Adora studiously avoiding her gaze, a little pink in the cheeks. 

“Are you guys…?” 

Catra blinked. 

“It’s--it’s fine if you are!” Adora spluttered, growing redder by the second. “I--I mean it’s just that she was so worried about you, and um, you never care where people are, so--” 

“Adora,” Catra said slowly, temporarily distracted from her nausea, “are you asking me if I’m dating Scorpia because I wanted to know where she went?” 

“Um,” said Adora, face now completely turned away. “No?” 

“Okay,” said Catra,watching her.

“Okay,” Adora echoed, squeezing the railing. “Um, except maybe I am? Asking?” 

Catra straightened up, and Adora ducked her head, looking anywhere but at her. 

“Adora,” she said again, even slower. “You are the stupidest person I’ve ever met.” 

_That_ got her to look at Catra. Her head whipped up and her mouth flapped wordlessly like a fish on land for a moment, unable to even splutter in her indignation. 

“Wh--it’s a reasonable--”

“How is that reasonable?” asked Catra, laughing freely. 

“Well--you get married! And--and the other you said you knew what--what being in love was like, so--”

“So you thought I married _Scorpia?”_

“She likes you,” Adora mumbled, almost petulantly. “I can tell, and you’re--nice to her. Well, okay, you’re not mean to her, which is kind of the same thing with you--” 

“I don’t marry Scorpia, dummy,” Catra huffed.

“Oh, y--oh,” said Adora, blinking. She looked back at Catra, almost confused. “Wait, did--did they tell you who…?”

“Yep,” said Catra, smirking. “And I’m not spilling.” 

“Catra!” Adora whined. “Come on!” 

“Nope,” she said smugly. “It’s for me to know and you to find out.” 

Adora groaned, long and loud. “Whoever it is, she deserves a medal for putting up with you.” 

“Several,” Catra agreed, smirk becoming a grin as she leaned into Adora’s space. “But I’m the greatest reward of all, wouldn’t you say?” 

Adora pushed her away by the face, laughing, but Catra used the opening to wrap her arms around Adora’s neck and shoulder, dragging her into a wrestling match that Adora seemed to relish in, if the size of her smile was anything to go off.

Adora had somehow gotten even stronger since joining the Rebellion, presumably from the improvements to her diet, but all the muscle in the world couldn’t keep Catra in a place she didn’t want to be. 

They shrieked and laughed as they chased each other across the ship, dodging the others and scampering up and down the rigging. Catra managed to tackle Adora by launching herself from the jib, rolling as they hit the deck, and pinned her by the shoulders. 

“Gotcha,” she breathed, grinning down at her. Adora was wriggling beneath her, nose wrinkled as she refused to accept her (complete and utter) defeat, trying to worm her hips out from under Catra as if she couldn’t simply leverage her position with her freakishly ripped shoulders. “Surrender?” 

“Never,” said Adora, grinning back fiercely. Her arms--still free, as Catra couldn’t hope to contain them--snapped to Catra’s waist, fingers digging into her ribs.

“Fuck!” Catra yelped. Adora seized on her distraction, surging upwards to pin _her_ against the deck, continuing her tickle assault with a ferocity she hadn’t actually possessed in battle. “No! Hey! This is low, Adora!”

“What’s the matter, Catra? I thought nothing was too low for you?” Adora laughed as Catra writhed to escape the onslaught, ignoring several kicks and rather more claw than Catra should probably be using. 

“I’m gonna throw up!” she gasped, smacking Adora in the face. “Off! I will not hesitate to barf on you!” 

“I know,” said Adora, sitting back and finally _fucking_ relenting with the tickling, “It’ll be just like old times!” 

“You _barfed_ on her?” came Glimmer’s voice, absolutely appalled. 

Catra took a moment to catch her breath, one hand pressed to her diaphragm as it ached from laughter. Hadn’t used those particular muscles in a while. Adora’s weight on her hips helped ground her to the movement of the ship, keeping the infernal rocking from turning her stomach.

“I mean, not really,” said Adora, smiling up at Glimmer. “I just held her hair for her, sometimes. If she was feeling bad enough to throw up she was usually feeling too bad to run me off.” 

“I’m beginning to sense a pattern here,” said Glimmer. “Did you guys have or respect _any_ boundaries?”

Catra thunked her head back against the deck, her mood dropping so abruptly she felt like she’d been tossed overboard. 

Boundaries, huh? 

She levered herself up on her elbows, wrapping her arms around herself as Adora took the cue and obligingly climbed off her lap, still talking to Glimmer. 

Catra got to her feet without a word, slinking to the far end of the ship, leaning over the railing and trying to find the horizon, trying to steady herself.

This was… dangerous. 

“Catra?” 

She turned at the soft voice, frowning at Bow in confusion. “What?” 

“Are you okay?” he asked, quiet and gentle. Her ears folded back. 

“I’m fine,” she said shortly. 

“You got really quiet all of a sudden,” he explained, stepping up next to her to look out at the horizon. She relaxed a little with his strangely piercing gaze off of her, rolling her shoulders to let out some of the tension. “When Glimmer asked about boundaries.” 

Catra clenched her teeth. They were really doing this, huh? 

_Let yourself trust people. Let yourself rely on them._

Ugh. Old-Catra had better know what she was talking about. 

“I… feel… bad,” she gritted out, claws digging into the railing. 

“What kind of bad?” asked Bow, blessedly restraining himself from sparkling at her attempts to ‘communicate’ even though she could practically _feel_ him buzzing with energy.

“I don’t know,” she said, with a short, frustrated motion towards the horizon. “I don’t--put words to things, usually. I wish that things were the way they were during ‘old times’, but I also really, really _don’t.”_

Mostly she felt sick, and not from the motion of the waves. Like her throat was charred to ash and bits of it were flaking off into her stomach. Like she didn’t fit in her skin right, and her bones were made of lead. 

“Well, what do you miss about old times?” Bow asked. “And what are you glad is different?” 

“I’m glad… I’m glad we’re different,” said Catra, glancing down at her hands. “I’m glad I know how she felt about everything. We still need to talk about the stuff we’ve done, but… we feel stronger. I just…” 

Bow waited for her to gather her thoughts, just standing patiently. It was nice. Calming, weirdly. 

“I just wish we hadn’t fucked everything up,” she said finally. “I wish we could have been happy in the ‘old times’ without whatever bullshit Shadow Weaver tricked us into. I… I wish we hadn’t hurt each other so much. It feels so stupid now, like all we needed to do was talk, but--talking was so impossible. It’s still--hard. To talk about.” 

It was hard to even think about it, most of the time. Why be hurt when she could be actionable? Get angry? Get something accomplished? 

“Adora is really happy you’re here, Catra,” said Bow, turning to smile gently at her. “And I am, too. I think what you’re doing is really brave, and really hard, and I want you to know that I’m here to help however I can. Even if it’s just helping you ‘put words to things’, I want to support you.” 

“I…” said Catra, swallowing an instinctive retort. “That’s… I appreciate that. Old-me said, uh--she said letting people help is… important. I kind of hate it.” 

Bow laughed, but not like he was laughing _at_ her. “It can be kind of the worst, huh? But don’t worry, it gets easier with practice! And don’t feel like you have to do everything at once, okay? I think talking about your feelings is a huge step for you. You should be really proud of yourself.” 

Pride. It felt like it was curdling in her gut. 

“No,” she said quietly. “I’m--nothing is ever enough.” 

“Well,” said Bow, reaching for her, laying a hand on her shoulder slowly enough that she could indicate it was unwelcome before he made contact, _“I’m_ proud of you. You’ve come so far in like, two days! This time last week we were mortal enemies, and look at us now! Future best friends!” 

“Yeah,” said Catra, swallowing down her nerves. “Friends. Sure.”

“So… why do you think Glimmer asking about having boundaries made you feel so bad?”

Catra made a face, brushing his hand away. “I don’t know, because we _didn’t?_ She didn’t listen when I told her to leave me alone, even when I hurt her. But I just--I didn’t really want her to? So now it’s like, do I want to be alone or do I just _want_ to want to be alone?” 

Bow hummed consideringly. “Okay,” he said, nodding. “So it’s like, your boundaries were never respected, and now you’re not sure when to set them, or that they’ll be taken seriously?” 

“I guess,” said Catra, shrugging. “More like, I don’t know… I don’t know how to be _good._ I feel like--like I’m bad no matter what I do, but letting some of it out, breaking something, hurting someone--it’s not that it feels better, but it just--it feels better to do something about it?” 

“It’s like taking control of your own life,” said Bow, like he was suggesting it. “Like if things are going to be bad, at least they can be bad in the way you decide?” 

“Yeah. ...Yeah. Ugh, that sounds so stupid.” 

“It’s not stupid! It actually kind of explains a lot.” 

“Thanks,” she said dryly. 

“Not about you, actually,” said Bow. “About Adora.” 

“Me fucking my life up on purpose explains Adora?” 

“Kind of?” he said, shrugging. “She wants to fix everything, you know? Even stuff that can’t be fixed. It makes sense that you guys would get pushed further into those mindsets if you had each other to balance stuff out.” 

“Yipee,” said Catra, carving a thin line in the railing with one claw. “I already know I wreck stuff, how do I _stop_ wrecking stuff?” 

“Same way Adora needs to stop fixing stuff,” said Bow, undeterred by the undercurrent of anger in her tone. “You deal with the real problem!” 

She growled, more a warning to heed her mood than a threat. “The _real_ problem?” 

“You guys have a lot of unresolved issues,” he informed her, nodding. “Not just with each other, but how you grew up. Next time you feel like breaking something, or self-sabotaging, try to take a moment to just… notice how you’re feeling. Try to put words to it.” 

“Words are stupid,” said Catra. “Actions speak louder than words.” 

“They can,” he agreed. “But only if you understand what they’re saying. If you don’t know how you’re feeling, how can you know why you’re feeling it?”

“Well, I know this started because Sparkles pissed me off.” 

“Actually, I don’t think you _were_ pissed off,” said Bow. “You were upset, and it sounds like it was for a good reason. I think there’s been some miscommunication between you and Adora--or at least things that haven’t been communicated--because you guys didn’t get a lot of practice with expressing yourselves in other ways.” 

“You think I hurt people because I don’t _talk_ more?” asked Catra, raising an eyebrow. 

Bow had the decency to look embarrassed. “Well--I mean--not to like, put words in your mouth here, but--it makes sense. If you have all these negative emotions and you don’t know how to get them out constructively, of course they’d come out _de_ structively.” 

Catra hummed, considering it. 

It was true that she’d wanted to hurt Adora specifically, because of her anger, her inadequacy, her hurt. She’d wanted Adora to know what she was feeling, to understand a fraction of the turmoil burning away at her like acid. And there just weren’t _words_ for how much she hurt.

“It wasn’t just that I wanted to destroy things,” she said after a moment, looking back out at the horizon. “I wanted… I dunno. I wanted people to see what I could do. To recognize that I wasn’t just…” Worthless. Disappointing. Insolent. 

Okay, maybe she was a little insolent. Even Shadow Weaver was right about _some_ things. 

“That’s okay,” said Bow, quieter than before. “Those are normal feelings. Hard, but normal. Everybody wants to feel accepted, to have people see them for who they really are, what they can accomplish if they’re allowed to care about something.” 

“That’s kind of specific,” said Catra, raising an eyebrow.

He laughed a little, rubbing the back of his neck. “I… didn’t tell my dads I was part of the Rebellion. For like, years. But this week, Glimmer and Adora followed me home and it all just sort of… came out. And I feel so much _better.”_

“You didn’t tell--where the hell did they think you were all the time?” asked Catra. 

“I may have made up a boarding school.”

“Damn, Arrow-Boy,” she whistled. “Didn’t think you had it in you.” 

“They weren’t even mad that I lied,” he said fondly, drumming his fingers on the railing. “They were upset that I hadn’t felt like I could talk to them, but mostly I think they’re proud of me. Really scared, yeah, but… that’s okay. I feel like they finally see me for who I am.” 

“Huh,” said Catra. 

Who he really was. 

Who was _she,_ really? Without her anger? Her ambition? Without her vindictive drive to outstrip even Hordak? 

What was left of ‘Catra’ when she wasn’t part of the Horde? 

“Hey,” she said, after a moment of companionable silence. “You said Adora mentioned Shadow Weaver, right? Before she turned up?” 

“Well, only after she followed us to Mystacor, but yeah, she explained about the mind games a little. Why?” 

“Did she say anything about me?” 

She kept her gaze fixed solidly on the horizon, even as he swiveled his head to grin at her. 

“Not as much as she should have,” he said when he’d managed to contain himself. “Some of it was clear just from watching you guys. She told us you were her best friend, and that you’d apparently known the Horde was evil the whole time, and she didn’t want to talk about it.” 

Catra snorted. Yeah. That tracked. 

“We got her to tell us a little more, sometimes. How you were really fast, and smart, and always knew how to take down an enemy you shouldn’t have been able to beat.” 

“I’d hope you would have picked that up watching me fight,” said Catra, grinning. “I beat She-Ra plenty of times before her backup got there.” 

“If we asked at sleepovers, things got a little more personal,” he went on, ignoring her. “Or at least, sadder. She said you were really funny, and really mean to most people, and that you always had her back.” 

Catra stopped grinning, digging her claws into the railing. 

“One time when she was half-asleep we asked what she missed most about the Horde,” said Bow, still watching her, as if gauging her reaction. “I was kind of expecting her to say her old bed or something, but she said it was your laugh.” 

She glanced over at him, shrinking slightly at the tenderness in his expression. He was looking at her like she was soft, like he gave a shit about her, and it should piss her off--it should feel like pity--but paired with the fact that Adora had... missed her? It was too much. 

“Then she’s even stupider than I thought,” she managed, clearing her throat and turning resolutely back to the sea. “I laughed at her like every time she saw me.” 

Thankfully, Bow didn’t press. He chuckled a little, looking out over the water again. “Yeah, that’s totally what she meant. Your maniacal cackling.” 

“It’s a very nice cackle,” said Catra, fixing a grin on her face like a mask. 

“It‘s alright,” he allowed. “I’ve definitely heard worse.” 

They lapsed back into silence, watching together for any sign of land in the endless ocean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> was the sea shanty too much? be honest.  
> originally i just cut straight to the boat, but i wanted to hit on a few notes of how adora's feeling & how catra's misinterpreting it, and then sea hawk was just kind of... himself.  
> at least she's finally picked up on why adora's so weird with scorpia lmao 
> 
> so rather than adding a bunch of chapters to this fic i'm gonna be writing another one in between this & the final (?) fic in this series, bringing us to 4 total unless i decide to address the horde prime shit after all. currently feeling pretty good about my decision to not do that because uh. well i'm gonna be real the only ideas i have for that are Extra fucked up & idk if i'm up to inflicting it on folks. real hype about fics 3 & 4 though, i have a lot of designs i can't post without spoiling a bunch of shit lmao


	5. The Island

“Glimmer, come on,” Bow pleaded, trying to get into her line of sight. She stubbornly turned her back on him, arms folded as she huffed in anger and disbelief. 

_“You_ come on!” she snapped. “You want me to just _sit_ here? That’s my _dad,_ Bow!” 

“Exactly! This is going to be a lot for him without dropping his estranged daughter on him!” 

“Now, surely he’d want to see her,” said Sea Hawk, stroking his mustache. “To have survived the perils of Beast Island alone for so many years…” 

“Don’t _you_ start again,” said Catra, glowering at him. “There is no way you’re getting off this boat. I don’t care what kind of ‘adventure’ you think you’re going to have out there, you’re our only way back and I am _not_ dying here.” 

He looked wounded. “But--” 

“Sea Hawk, please,” Adora groaned, rubbing her face. “Just _getting_ here is a great story for you to tell, right? We need you to man the ship.” 

“And we need someone to keep an eye on you,” added Catra, glancing at a still-sulking Glimmer. “Someone who can catch you if you try anything stupid.” 

“Everything he tries is stupid!” Glimmer fumed. 

“Now, don’t be like that, Your Highness,” said Sea Hawk. “Scorpia! You support me!” 

“Oh, uh, well--yes? But I also think you should stay on the ship.” 

Sea Hawk deflated. “Very well. It seems I’m outvoted. Glimmer, what say I teach you a few new shanties?”

_“Please_ let me go with you,” Glimmer begged, grabbing Bow by the strap of his quiver and shaking him. “Dad will get over the shock eventually! He’s been living on a deserted island for over a decade!” 

“Sorry Glimmer,” said Bow, gently prizing her hands loose. “We don’t know where his head’s at right now. It’s better safe than sorry.” 

“Ugghhh,” she groaned, throwing her head back. “We should’ve brought my mom. She looks exactly the same!” 

“He might think she was a hallucination, though,” Adora pointed out. 

“He might think _we’re_ hallucinations,” said Catra, shaking her head. “What’s our plan here, anyway? Just wander around until we pick up a trail?” 

“Well, it’s not that big an island,” said Adora. 

“And what about the _beasts,_ Adora?”

Adora grimaced. “We can handle a few beasts. It’ll be just like training!”

“Yeah, except way messier and hopefully fewer combat scenarios,” Catra muttered, sheathing and unsheathing her claws to limber up her fingers. “Fine, we’ll just wander around like idiots.” 

“Fewer? Not ‘no’?” Adora echoed, frowning, but Catra brushed past her to the edge of the ship as it hovered beside the strange bio-organic mishmash that appeared to make up the bulk of the island. 

“If we’re going to go, we should go now,” she said, looking back at the group. “We’ll be back by dark. Everybody still have their earpieces? We should keep them in in case we get separated.” 

“Ooh, I actually uh, I don’t have one,” said Scorpia, raising a timid claw. Catra groaned. 

“Right. Shit. Maybe you should wait with Sparkles and Seagull.” 

“Sea _Hawk!”_

“It’s Beast Island, Wildcat,” said Scorpia, as if Catra could have somehow forgotten. “I don’t know if--” 

“I can handle it,” Catra said shortly, narrowing her eyes. Great. Now Scorpia was doubting her, too? “I could handle the whole thing by myself if we didn’t need someone to convince Michael to come with us.” 

“Okay, this fun thing you do where you get people’s names wrong on purpose? Please don’t do that with my dad,” said Glimmer. 

“Are you worried I’m gonna convince him your name is actually Glitter? Because you should be, I’m absolutely planning to try that.” Catra hopped over the railing as she spoke, sighing a little in relief at the feeling of solid ground under her feet. 

“Catra, don’t gaslight my dad!” 

“Or what, Sparkles? You said it yourself, I’m Rebellion now. You’re stuck with me.”

Adora leapt over the railing as well, staggering a little as she landed. She punched Catra in the shoulder with less force than she would’ve, once, and Catra’s sharp grin softened a little at the edges. 

“Let’s get a move on. Scorpia, can you make sure Glimmer and Sea Hawk don’t do anything stupid?” asked Adora. 

“I can try?” said Scorpia, rubbing the back of her neck. “I really think I should come with you guys, though. As long as we use the buddy system we should be okay, right?” 

“Wrong,” said Catra, shaking her head. “Like you said, it’s Beast Island. We need to be prepared.” 

“Quest Friend Squad!” Bow crowed as he jumped off the boat, raising his arms over his head like a gymnast sticking the landing. “Let’s find King Micah, not get eaten, and get back to Bright Moon at a reasonable hour!” 

“Uh-huh,” said Catra, as dryly as possible. “Everybody be ready. We’ll signal you when we find him. Don’t let your guard down.” 

“Tell him I love him, okay?” asked Glimmer, looking down at them. She was biting her lip, eyes shining with unshed tears, but at least she was staying on the boat. Catra shot her a lazy, two-fingered salute. 

“Tell him yourself when we bring him back.”

She turned to the forest of decaying technology before them. Adora stepped next to her, Bow on the other side, and, walking shoulder-to-shoulder, they were swallowed by the depths of Beast Island. 

\- - -  
  


It actually wasn’t so bad, at first. Kind of weird, a little spooky, with First Ones’ tech embedded into every branching surface like arteries exposed to the open air. Colder than Catra had expected, probably due to the towering ruins that blocked out the light. From the stories, she’d always pictured a steaming tropical jungle somewhere, brimming with life determined to eat any unsuspecting traveler. 

It was quiet, too, only the occasional rustle of some creature or other skittering away and a distant keening, like a machine that had been overworked. 

Adora and Bow were jumpy, trying to keep up a steady stream of conversation to distract themselves from the unnatural vines that snaked over fallen corpses and piles of technology, absorbing whatever it could into the island. 

“It could be worse, right?” said Bow, laughing nervously, eyes darting around the corridor of ‘trees’ they were walking down. “I mean, it must have been a lot harder for King Micah. He was all by himself, and I doubt the Horde let him take any weapons.” 

“Glimmer has his staff, right?” Adora agreed hesitantly. “So--so probably not. But he was supposed to be a really powerful sorcerer. I mean, he must be, right? To have survived so long?” 

Catra tuned them out, trying to pinpoint the high-pitched whine. It was beginning to irritate her, but all she could really tell was that it was farther in from the shore. It was almost familiar, kind of similar to the drone of machines in the Fright Zone, if way harder to ignore. 

“Do you guys hear that?” she asked after a while, when it grew loud enough that she had to pin her ears back to muffle the sound. Even their stupid human ears should be able to pick it up by now. 

“What?” asked Adora, drawing her sword immediately and looking around for the danger. “Is it scruffers?” 

“No, dumbass,” said Catra, rolling her eyes. “It’s like this big machine-y noise. It’s driving me insane.” 

“I don’t hear anything like that,” said Bow, frowning a little. “Can you tell where it’s coming from?” 

“Not exactly, but I know we’re getting closer,” said Catra. “It’s--I think towards the center of the island? I don’t know, it’s really fucking annoying.” 

Adora’s expression had shifted from anxious to ‘worrying’, so Catra wasn’t terribly surprised when she hefted the sword into the air and yelled her stupid catchphrase.

She _was_ surprised when nothing happened. 

“What the fuck?” asked Catra, as Adora stared at the sword in horror. “Your sword’s broken? I thought yesterday was just to piss off Shadow Weaver.” 

“Oh no,” said Adora, pale. Catra was suddenly conscious of how _small_ she was, how vulnerable she seemed despite a lifetime of Adora being some untouchable figure in their training drills. Compared to She-Ra, she might as well be made of paper. 

“What’s happening?” she asked urgently. “Is it the island? Do you think the noise is some kind of like, anti-She-Ra signal?” 

“It might be related to all the First Ones’ tech this place is absorbing,” said Bow, also visibly unnerved. “This hasn’t happened in forever, are y--”

“This has happened before?” Catra asked anxiously, looking between Adora and the sword. “In the _field?”_

“It took me a while to get the hang of transforming,” said Adora, as if confessing some grave sin and not that she’d needed a basic amount of practice to learn whatever magic fucking ritual turned her into a superhuman. “And--sometimes it--” 

Her face darkened, and Catra could see her knuckles tighten on the hilt. 

“Sometimes it responds to what I’m feeling,” she finished quietly. 

“What are you feeling?” Bow asked, soft and gentle. Catra’s stomach dropped as Adora’s eyes flickered with ghosts, that same distance she’d seen when Adora had been talking about the things Shadow Weaver did to her.

Adora didn’t answer, turning away. 

“Adora,” said Catra, taking a step nearer. “You--you need to tell people how you feel. Remember?” 

Her shoulders were shaking. What little of her face Catra could see was a twisted grimace, like everything was trying to escape at once. 

“Useless,” she said finally. Her voice was surprisingly steady, if a little lower than usual. “I feel… The things my future-self told me, I--Catra, I left you to _die.”_

Catra sucked in a surprised breath, not quite a gasp. Oh. Okay, they were doing this now. 

“I didn’t think about it,” Adora went on. “I _wouldn’t_ think about it. It was so much easier to pretend that since I was working with the good guys, I was right and you were wrong. To just--be She-Ra. I just left you there. I knew how she treated you and I just _left you there.”_

“Adora--” Catra tried, stepping closer. Adora shook her head violently, still avoiding eye contact. 

“You were just--you just wanted me to trust you. To believe in you, for _once,_ and I treated you like you were just screwing up, like you were as stupid as I was. I didn’t listen to you--I was so sure, I--Catra, I’m sorry.” 

Catra froze, overcome with a wave of emotions she couldn’t even begin to parse out. 

She’d never expected an apology. 

Even when she’d been determined to drag Adora back to the Horde, she’d anticipated at most a grudging ‘thanks for getting me out of there’ or, in her wilder fantasies, promises that she wouldn’t leave ever again. 

This wasn’t like the muted apologies from their sleepover, sincere but superficial, addressing Catra’s feelings and acknowledging Adora’s part in them. This was genuine remorse, running so deep that Catra felt like she could see straight through to Adora’s heart. 

Catra had never seen her so upset--not when she’d learned the truth about the Horde, not when they’d clashed in battle, not even when she dropped herself off the face of a cliff to be dramatic. The only thing that even came close was when old-Adora had told her she deserved to be loved.

Something ached in Catra’s chest, but she couldn’t move any closer. She could only stare.

“I know how you talk,” Adora went on, breathing hard through her nose. She turned her head slightly, and Catra was relieved to see she wasn’t crying, though she looked close. “I know that you say things without _saying_ them, but I just took it all at face value. I just played right into everything Shadow Weaver ever made you believe about me, and I--I broke my promise.” 

Catra swallowed, her throat dry. 

“I’m so sorry,” Adora whispered, squeezing her eyes shut. 

And it was--it was so much more than she’d ever hoped for, but _fuck,_ it hurt to hear. She felt like she was going to throw up. She’d been so prepared to have salt ground into the wound, to be kicked while she was down, that the unexpected remorse was a different pain entirely. Ice water soothing infected flesh, the reek of burn salve, the pinch of a needle sewing stitches into her skin. 

Adora was upset, Adora was in pain, and it was because of her own choices but Catra knew with sudden certainty that it was because of _her._

If she had just left the Horde, just let old-Catra carry her war secrets and disappeared, Adora wouldn’t be hurting like this. She would have gone on thinking she’d been blameless for the rest of her life, instead of finding a way to shoulder every burden as she was so prone to do. Catra could have protected her from this, but she’d been so swept up in old-Catra’s machinations, so allured by the promise of everything she’d represented, that she hadn’t spared a moment to think of how Adora would feel about it all. 

Not beyond worrying she’d get a sword to the gut for her troubles. 

And it didn’t even matter in the end. 

Catra dropped to her knees as a sudden surge of despair gripped her stomach, bracing her hands against the ground. Affection and gratitude soured by guilt and the absolute certainty that she deserved so much worse than this.

“Wh--Catra?” asked Adora, dropping beside her instantly, reaching for her, but Catra just shook her head, desperately fighting the tears crawling up her throat. 

“Catra, are you okay?” asked Bow from behind her, his footsteps shuffling closer. 

“It doesn’t matter,” she choked out. Her breath was too shallow, but she could still speak. She clung to that, forcing the tears away. “None of this matters.” 

“Of course it matters. I left you--”

_“No,_ Adora, _this!”_ Catra snapped, waving a shaking hand between them. “Old-Catra said--she said we already--it’s too late--” 

“Hey, we talked about this,” Bow said soothingly, kneeling beside her. “There’s more than one way to be happy--” 

“But I want _that_ way!” Catra yelled, finally losing her battle against the tears. Shame joined the thread of hopelessness tying her down, a heavy weight in her gut. “You don’t--understand. Nobody understands.” 

“Then help us understand,” said Adora, reaching over to cover one of her hands with her own. 

“I can’t,” she said immediately, shaking her head as if it would shake the tears loose. “I can’t. There’s--it’s too much. There’s no point.” Adora had apologized. She should apologize too. She should be trying harder, she should make things right. She was so fucking pathetic she couldn’t even say two words. So scared of driving the final nail into the coffin that she couldn’t even force her mouth to form the syllables. Cowardly. Weak.

“Catra, this isn’t like you,” said Adora, lifting her other hand to Catra’s face. Catra shied away from her touch, unable to trust herself. “You don’t--I’ve never seen you cry like this in front of people before.”

“Yeah?” asked Catra, sniffling pathetically. “Before, it fucking mattered.” 

“It matters now,” said Bow, still not touching her but steadfast at her side. “It always matters how you feel.”

“No,” she disagreed with a humorless chuckle. Her tears were drying up. She just felt empty, now. “Nothing fucking matters. I’m… Old-me was from a different world. I’m never going to have that. I’m not supposed to. I’m not supposed to be happy.” 

How could Adora ever love her, when Catra had caused her so much pain? 

What was the point of trying, when she could never make up for what she’d done?

They could just be friends. Catra could just wait and watch her fall in love with someone else. She could keep this secret a little longer. It wasn’t like she’d make it through the war, not really. It had been so stupid to indulge in thinking she might, when it had been inevitable her whole life. She’d always known she would die in battle, but here she’d forgotten that because, what? Some stupid babies promised otherwise? 

“You _deserve_ to be happy,” Adora told her, unexpectedly fierce. “You’ve suffered so much, you’re trying so hard, Catra--” 

“Stop. You don’t know what you’re saying,” Catra interrupted. Her voice cracked. “That other us--that other me--she was a fluke. There’s no way forward. There’s no _point.”_

“Adora,” Bow said urgently, lunging suddenly for Catra’s legs. She flinched away, just as Adora gasped and seized her around the waist. 

“What--Adora!” she protested weakly, wiping her tears with the side of her hand. 

“The vines,” said Adora, heaving against an unexpected resistance. Bow was sawing at something, gripping her heel with one hand. There was a series of snaps and suddenly Adora was pulling her up into her arms, staggering backwards. 

“Back the way we came,” Bow said urgently, pointing, and Adora took off running with a bewildered Catra in her arms. 

The farther they went, the more Catra felt… stupid. 

“Wait,” she said, frowning sharply, pushing against Adora’s chest like it could slow her down. “What the fuck just--let me down.” 

“Catra?” asked Adora, heavy with relief. She slowed to a jog. “Are--are you okay?” 

Catra wriggled free of her arms instead of answering, landing in a loose crouch, brow furrowed as she tried to make sense of whatever _that_ was. 

“It was those vine things,” Bow panted as he caught up, leaning over his knees. “They were crawling up your legs, like--they were trying to absorb you.” 

Catra’s fur bristled, but she held back a shudder. That was quite enough emotion for one afternoon, thank you. Adora dropped to her knees beside her, grabbing her shoulders and searching her face for something. 

“You deserve to be happy,” she said, very seriously. Catra raised an eyebrow, well-aware that the expression was somewhat marred by the tear tracks still on her face. 

“I dunno about ‘deserve’, but I’m not gonna let that fucking stop me,” she scoffed, trying to hide the tremor in her voice. 

“No deflecting,” said Adora, removing one of her hands to point very sternly at Catra’s nose. “I mean it. You deserve to be happy, and I’m not gonna rest until you are.” 

Catra swallowed. “You never rest anyway,” she mumbled, breaking eye contact to look awkwardly at the ground.

Adora laughed and tugged her forward, pulling her out of her crouch onto her knees, and threw her arms around her. 

Catra froze at the once-familiar sensation, breath stuttering as she tried to find her thoughts. They didn’t seem to want to assemble, slipping out of her grasp like smoke. She gave in after a few moments of tension, melting into the embrace, burying her face in Adora’s shoulder. 

Fuck, she had missed Adora. 

It was like nothing else in the world mattered, not when she was safely cocooned in Adora’s arms, wrapped in her scent and the promises they’d made and broken. They were together again. Nothing else mattered.

And damn it all, Catra loved her. She loved her so much it felt like her chest was cracked in two. 

She took a deep, fortifying breath. It wasn’t like with Shadow Weaver. It wouldn’t make things worse; she wasn’t being insolent, or begging for mercy. She just wanted Adora to know. Wanted to say it.

“I’m--Adora, I’m sorry,” she managed, shaking with the force of so many emotions overloading every nerve at once. “For everything. I know--I know you hurt me, but I should never have tried to… to do it back. I should have talked to you. I should have _trusted_ you. I’m so, so sorry.” 

“Thank you,” Adora said into her hair, pressing closer like she could hold Catra together if she just hung on tight enough. A pathetically loud part of Catra took a moment to be grateful that she didn’t say ‘I know’ or ‘it’s okay’ or some other meaningless platitude, that she understood how hard this was for Catra. It wasn’t forgiveness, but she didn’t deserve forgiveness. Not yet. 

“You’re… so important,” she told Adora’s shoulder. “I didn’t--I didn’t know what to do. I thought when you realized about the Horde you’d--you’d realized what _I_ am. I thought you gave up on me.” 

“Never,” Adora whispered. “I _know_ you. After Thaymor, I... I was so scared that I didn’t. Because if I didn’t see the truth about the Horde, what else wasn’t I seeing?” 

She didn’t ask what Catra was. She didn’t need to. She _knew,_ but she still cared. 

“But I was wrong,” Adora told her, stroking her hair with one hand. “I always saw you. I knew you were a good person, but I still--I should have fought for you. I should have done better. I should have _been_ better.”

Catra shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. “I shouldn’t have--I should--I could have tried to _be_ a good person. Instead of--” Instead of everything. She couldn’t even voice it. 

“It’s hard,” Adora said softly. “People make it sound like it’s easy, but it’s hard to be good. To get better.” 

They sat for a moment in mutual misery, before Adora broke the silence.

“Are you okay?” she asked again, soft and patient.

“No,” Catra croaked, laughing. “What the fuck just happened?” 

“I don’t know.” She could feel Adora grimacing into the space behind her ear, her hold tightening in a protective squeeze for just a moment. “It must be the noise you heard. Is it still there?” 

“Yeah, it’s been there since we got here. It’s quieter now.” 

“It might be related to whatever’s shorting out Adora’s powers,” said Bow. Catra jolted so hard she smacked her chin into Adora’s shoulder; she’d forgotten he was there for a minute. 

“Whatever it is, we… I can’t go on like this,” Catra admitted, pulling away from Adora. She sat back on the ground, folding her knees to her chest, tail curling over her ankles. “I can barely get a third of the way in. I’ll go back to the ship, and you two can keep looking.” 

“Catra, no,” said Adora, trying to duck into her line of sight. Catra kept her head turned away. “We don’t know that the noise is what affected you. We don’t even know if it’s stationary. I’m staying with you.” 

Catra swallowed a lump in her throat, holding herself a little tighter. She didn’t answer. 

“Adora,” Bow said quietly, “can I talk to Catra for a second?” 

“Yeah?” said Adora, frowning in apparent confusion.

“... Alone?” 

Adora made a face. 

“Come on,” he cajoled, “She’s my friend too, now! Right, Catra?” 

“Don’t make it weird,” muttered Catra.

“Fine,” said Adora, “I’ll be right over there though, okay? Call me if anything happens!” 

She got to her feet, hesitating for a moment before finally peeling herself away and standing at the opposite end of their little clearing, watching them. 

“Sooooooo,” said Bow, drawing out the sound. 

“I _just_ told you not to make it weird,” Catra groaned, thunking her forehead into her knees. 

“Do you remember what we talked about on the ship?” 

“‘Do I remember’?” she repeated incredulously. “It’s been like, an hour.” 

“I know. I’m prompting you. This is a prompt.” 

“Prompting me to _what?”_

“To think about how you’re feeling!” said Bow, shuffling around to sit in front of her. He was grinning like an idiot. “C’mon, let’s break it down. That was a really scary thing that just happened to you. Would you say you’re ‘shaken’? ‘Unnerved’?”

“You really want to do this _here?”_ asked Catra, raising her head so he could see her disapproving glare. “On fucking Beast Island?” 

“Yep!” 

He just sat there, smiling at her. Waiting. 

“Fine,” she huffed finally. “I guess I’m... “ 

She didn’t know what she was. It was like she was feeling every emotion simultaneously, a riot of sensations familiar and unfamiliar frothing in her veins like some kind of chemical cocktail. 

Bow took her stumbling in stride, nodding like he understood. “Let’s start with what you’re thinking, then. When Glimmer doesn’t know how she’s feeling, she likes to journal, or write letters. Sometimes putting words to stuff can help you understand how you feel about it.”

Catra’s ears flicked back, and she barely suppressed a growl. 

Ah. There was one she recognized: Embarrassment. 

“That’s stupid,” she said shortly. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said, smile dropping a little, raising his hands in surrender. Making himself open. Vulnerable. Even from her curled-up position, she could kill him in an instant if she wanted to. “I won’t tell anyone _anything_ you don’t want me to. I just want to help.”

It was a display. A physical show of trust, offered in exchange for whatever she was willing to offer up. 

Her thoughts drifted briefly to his ridiculous crop top. Maybe it served a purpose after all.

“Okay,” she said, frowning. “I’m… yeah. Okay. I guess I was thinking--I wanted to go back to the boat, because I was putting you in danger. I’m a liability as long as whatever that shit was is still around. But then Adora said--she said--” 

“When she said we’d stay with you?” Bow suggested, still soft, still open. Still trusting. 

“Yeah,” said Catra. She swallowed a sudden lump in her throat, looking away from him. “And I really did want--I wanted to help, to get out of the way, but… I’m selfish.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“When she said that, I just… she never stays. Nobody does.” 

“We’re not going to leave you behind,” Bow told her, very seriously. 

“I know.” She laughed, small and dry. “That’s why I feel like this. It’s never happened before, but I-- I just-- I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now.” 

“What did you mean about being selfish?” 

“I want her to stay with me,” she admitted quietly, glancing over at Adora. She was checking their perimeter from her impromptu post across the clearing, ever the diligent soldier. “I want her to _want_ to. But I’m not supposed to hurt her anymore, and I’m putting both of you in danger--” 

“Whoa, Catra,” said Bow, chuckling. “It’s not selfish to _want_ things! You don’t have to stay with us because it’s tactically advantageous--although, I think it is--you can just… do what you want. It’s not hurting us to let us protect you.” 

Catra flinched at his choice in words, and he faltered, growing concerned. There was a question clear on his face, but she could already tell he wouldn’t give voice to it. He wasn’t going to push her. 

“Adora protected me, when we were kids,” she said at length. “I mean, she tried to. It never did anything against the adults, and the other cadets… It made them think I was weak. That I was hiding behind her, _using_ her. Like a shield.” 

“Did it bother you that they thought you were weak?” 

“Of course it did,” she snorted. “If you’re weak, you’re easy prey. They’d try to start shit and I’d have to finish it, and even if I always won it’s not like I _enjoyed_ being a pariah.” 

“But it was good that they thought you were using her,” said Bow, not like he was disagreeing with her but like he was laying out puzzle pieces, seeing how things fit together. There was a small crease between his eyebrows. “Because then they didn’t know why you really wanted her around.” 

Catra blinked at him. “Uh. Yeah. How did you know that?” 

“You hate it when people think you’re weak,” he said, shrugging. “But you’re smart. You know how to make people pay attention to the wrong thing, draw the wrong conclusions. If you got them to think you were physically vulnerable, they wouldn’t see that you were _emotionally_ vulnerable.”

“It wasn’t exactly a secret,” said Catra, but she tilted her head as she evaluated him. That was… surprisingly astute. Maybe he wasn’t as dumb as she’d thought. “Everybody knew we were close.” 

“Hm,” said Bow, tilting his head in the opposite direction, evaluating her right back. “So you care about Adora, that’s one feeling. You feel bad because you think you’re going to hold us back--which is silly--that’s two. Are you scared about what happened back there?” 

She snorted. “No. It’s weird that it hit me out of nowhere, I guess.” 

Bow frowned again, clearly concerned. “Have you felt like that before?” 

“I mean, which part?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Like nothing matters?” 

“Oh, sure,” she said, with feigned nonchalance. She lifted her shoulders in a half-hearted shrug. “I mean, it doesn’t. Objectively.” 

“I think it does,” said Bow. “Why do you think it’s so hard for you to accept that you could be happy in the future?” 

She grappled with words for a moment, trying to wrestle her gnarled thoughts into submission. “It’s… I guess I don’t understand. It seems fake. Impossible.” 

“Well, let’s try looking at it differently. If it weren’t you, would you feel differently? Do you think Future Adora was happy?” 

Catra’s ears fell back against her skull. “I hope so,” she said quietly. 

“Then why couldn’t it be true for you, too?” 

“Adora is different,” she said, scowling as she tried to find a way to articulate _why._ “Adora… she could be happy with anybody. You and Sparkles make her happy, a good dinner makes her happy, _I_ made her happy. She just needs people who can see through whatever bullshit front she puts up.” 

“And you don’t need that?” asked Bow. 

“It’s different,” she said, shaking her head. “Because under the bullshit, Adora’s the most--” She cut herself off, blushing under her fur, and looked away. “You know what she’s like.” 

“She’s great,” he agreed, grinning in her peripherals. “But I bet you’re pretty great too! Under all the biting and being super mean to people.” 

“But I’m _not,_ dipshit,” said Catra, exasperated. “It’s being super mean to people all the way down. Adora’s all duty on the outside, huge dork on the inside, but me? I’m an asshole through and through.” 

“Hmm, no, I don’t think so,” said Bow, still smiling. “I think you’re a good person. Future Catra was really nice! And that means you could be, too.” 

“I’m not her, Arrow-Boy.”

“Not yet. But you wanna be, right? One day?”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s not like it’s up to me.”

“Oh,” said Bow, sitting up a little straighter. “Is this about your wife?” 

“She’s not my wife!”

“Not _yet,”_ he said again, winking. “Come on, Catra! You should be excited! There’s gonna be someone who loves you so much--” 

“It’s not _guaranteed,”_ she snapped. “She doesn’t feel that way about me, okay? I don’t know how the fuck I’m supposed to get excited about it when it’s never gonna fucking happen.” 

“Aw, Catra,” said Bow, smile dimming. “You’re really worried about this, aren’t you?” 

“No,” she mumbled, tucking her chin to her chest. “Maybe. Shut up.”

“Look,” he told her gently, “You’re kind of a jerk, you pushed me off a cliff, and I’m starting to think you’re allergic to sincerity.”

“This is an amazing pep talk, thanks.”

_“But,”_ he said, holding up a single finger. “Over these past couple of days I’m starting to understand why Adora loves you so much.”

Catra sucked in a breath, meeting his eyes.

“You’re smart, and funny, and you care about the people you love, even if you’d literally rather die than admit it,” he went on, heedless of the word ‘loves’ ricocheting around her head on repeat, “and I really do think you’re a good person. You just don’t know how to _be_ one yet.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” said Catra, staring at him. 

“Being good isn’t just a choice,” he explained. “It’s a bunch of choices, one after the other, every day. It’s hard work, and sometimes, you’ll make mistakes. But I think the thing that makes you a good person is trying to be one, even when it’s hard. Even when you mess up.” 

“I messed up to the tune of a full-scale invasion, Bow. How the fuck am I supposed to make up for that? For any of it?” 

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “It’s going to be different for everyone. There’s no… score you can settle. And for some people it won’t ever be enough.” 

Catra looked away again, scowling. “Story of my life.”

“I’m gathering that apologies aren’t really your thing,” Bow said delicately. “And that’s… we’ll work on that. But the important thing to remember with apologies is that people don’t have to accept them.”

“Believe me, I know,” she muttered. The ghost of lightning crawled up her spine, and her fur stood on end as she shuddered reflexively. It was worse when she’d meant it. When the magic was intensified by the sting of rejection, the desperation to understand what she could do to make it stop. How she could ever be good enough.

If it were just a question of whether someone would accept them, apologies wouldn’t be half so loathsome. But submitting yourself to someone’s judgment--to someone’s wrath? It went against every instinct she had. 

But old-Catra said Bright Moon would teach her how to be good. How to be happy. She had to at least try.

“I’m… sorry I pushed you off that cliff,” she said through gritted teeth. There. Start small.

“Well, I’m sorry for kidnapping you,” he said, laughing a little awkwardly. 

“I’m sorry for kidnapping _you,”_ she countered, shoving his shoulder to lessen the feeling of exposure, to hold onto some modicum of control. 

He laughed a little more sincerely, letting himself be pushed. 

“Can I come back yet?” Adora called from across the clearing. “You guys aren’t allowed to wrestle without me, I’m pretty sure that’s illegal.” 

“I’d _destroy_ him,” Catra called back, waving her over. 

“What was _that_ about?” asked Adora, jogging back and hauling them both to their feet. 

“Arrow-Boy here’s trying to teach me about the magic of crop tops,” said Catra, smirking. 

“I think I’m almost there,” Bow stage-whispered to Adora. “She seemed intrigued by the flexibility.”

“I think you could pull it off,” said Adora, hand still clasped around Catra’s even as Bow released her automatically. She grinned, open and almost eager as her gaze darted between Catra’s mismatched eyes, like she could pick the conversation out of her brain if she just stared long enough. “Maybe you two could go shopping together.” 

“Only if you come too,” said Catra, stepping back so she could make a show of looking Adora up and down. “Have you even washed these since you left?” 

“It’s worse than that,” said Bow. “They’re replicas.” 

“They’re what.” 

“They’re replicas!” he repeated, throwing his hands in the air. “She went to the poor tailor and said ‘hey can you make exact copies of this Horde uniform but maybe remove the emblem? Okay thanks bye’.”

Catra squinted at Adora critically. “Wow. You’re a terrible traitor.” 

“They’re comfortable!” she insisted, tugging Catra behind her as she set off into the wilds of Beast Island once again. 

“You’re an idiot.”

“You haven’t even changed out of yours!” 

“I’ve been Rebellion for a _day,_ Adora. You couldn’t even get a different color jacket?”

“I was adjusting!” 

“Sure, everything you’ve ever known is _real_ easy to ditch, but your _color scheme?_ Perish the thought,” Catra snickered, finally tugging her hand loose.

“I _like_ red!” she protested. 

“Future-Adora was wearing blue,” Bow pointed out, grinning at Catra as he overtook her slightly. 

She hung back a little, watching the familiar way Adora talked to him, her animated gesturing, the guiding hand he extended as she stepped over what might have once been a log without looking.

Maybe Bow was right. Maybe this was all ‘being good’ had to be. Paying attention to the people around you, trying to make them happy. Safe. 

Or maybe the incessant buzzing in her ear was right, and she was going to die alone, having driven away anyone that ever tried to help her. 

Could go either way, really. 

But the only way to find out was to keep moving forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reworked most of this chapter & ended up with another Bow Therapy session instead of a mental breakdown. maybe not the best move in terms of building narrative suspense but it was more important to me that catra & adora both make efforts to actually communicate than to uh. well i'm gonna repurpose some of it for next chapter so i won't get into it but suffice to say i'm leaning into the Beast Island/Annihilation/trauma metaphor thing.
> 
> ultimately i wanted to take a beat to focus on the 'sudden' onset of despair when you realize every terrible thing you did whilst raging against a bleak and hostile world was not only Pointless but will have Long Term Consequences. having to accept that there will in fact BE a Long Term, when you were pretty sure you had maybe two years left, tops. 
> 
> okay fine, i'm projecting, _whatever,_ nobody tell my mom


	6. The Beast

Catra was doing her best to stay calm, taking stock of her emotions every so often, trying to keep her breath slow and even. She hadn’t been incapacitated in the same way again, though the strange noise got louder and quieter at more or less random intervals now. It seemed to respond to her focus--if she stopped thinking about it, it was almost like it wasn’t there. 

Bow was a little chattier than he had been, as if he thought he could stave off whatever-the-fuck-that-was by keeping them distracted. He was leading the way, rambling about some adventure he’d gone on with Glimmer, or something. Catra was a little preoccupied. 

Adora was acting strangely. 

“Hey,” said Catra, tapping her shoulder. Adora startled, almost punching her by reflex before she processed who (or what) had touched her. “Easy there, bruiser. You good?” 

“I’m--yeah,” said Adora, shaking her head. “Yeah, sorry, I just--I can hear it now, too. I’m… I dunno.” 

“Aw, you scared?” Catra teased, grinning at her. “The almighty She-Ra can’t handle a weird noise?” 

“You really freaked me out earlier,” said Adora. “I don’t know how much you remember, or how aware you were, but… I’ve never seen you like that before. Even when we were really little, before you got all… prickly.”

“Okay, well, rude.” 

“You know what I mean,” said Adora, rolling her eyes. “Before you started hiding how you felt all the time.” 

“Before _we_ started hiding how we felt, Captain Tell-People-How-You-Feel-or-Else.”

“I just don’t want to… to lose control,” said Adora, looking away. “It… scares me.”

“Yeah,” said Catra. “Yeah.” 

“But is it worse to _feel_ like I’m in control, when I’m not?” she asked, turning back to Catra, almost pleading. “To think I have everything handled when really I’m being manipulated?”

“Remember when we were in the Northern Reach?” 

Adora blinked, desperation pinching into confusion. “Uh… some parts. You did kind of--”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” said Catra, waving her hand as if to shoo away the apology before Adora could acknowledge it. “How much did your merry band of misfits tell you?” 

“Well, they told me I attacked them,” said Adora, scowling at her in clear accusation. 

“Haha, yeah. It was great, I really thought you might cut Glimmer in half.” 

“I’m gonna tell her you know her real name.” 

“Oh, fuck you,” said Catra, making a face at her. “Do you want me to fill in some gaps for you, or not?” 

“I mean, that would be nice,” said Adora, making a face in return. 

“Well, you beat the shit out of me,” said Catra, ignoring the way that made Adora’s expression falter, “which by the way was only because I had to wear shoes, if I’d been barefoot I would have had it all under control.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“Yeah, and then, get this, you tried to kill me.”

Adora stifferened, eyes widening in horror. “I _what?”_

“Yeah!” said Catra, laughing, trying not to let it go jagged around the edges. “I only got you in the first place because you were too chickenshit to pull the trigger, and not five minutes later you’re fucking _psyched_ about it, like genuinely thrilled to cleave me in two.”

“That’s--I’m--it wasn’t supposed to be like that,” Adora stammered, looking Catra over like there was some kind of scar for her to find. “It wasn’t ever supposed to be--I thought it was destroyed, I--” 

“I know,” said Catra, grimacing. “I, uh… I am sorry about that. And for plotting to sic you on your friends when you stopped being all… floppy.” 

“I’m sorry for _trying to kill you,”_ said Adora, mouth set in a hard line and eyes shining. 

“What I’m getting at here is, I’ve seen you when you’re out of control,” Catra explained, shifting closer and bumping hips with her. “And I’ve seen you when you’re being manipulated, whether it’s by Shadow Weaver or your robo-buddy or yours truly. And believe me when I say, manipulation wins every time. Know why?” 

“Because I don’t have a murder virus?” 

“Because you can still think for yourself,” said Catra, poking her in the forehead. “Even when people force you down a certain path, your big dumb heart won’t shut the fuck up. I could still think when the vines were on me, it was just… heavier. Even if Bow and I weren’t here to cut you loose, you could beat ‘em. You just worry too much, idiot.” 

A slow smile spread across Adora’s face, and Catra was suddenly _very_ aware of their proximity. They had stopped walking at some point, and there were only a few inches between their faces, their sides pressed together from her earlier hip bump. She cleared her throat, turning her head away to hide the growing flush in her cheeks, and started moving again. 

“You’re going soft on me,” Adora teased, trying to catch up. 

“As if,” she retorted, still avoiding eye contact. “I’m just finally in my natural habitat.”

“Beast Island is your natural habitat?” 

“Sure. It’s terrifying and unknowable, _I’m_ terrifying and unknowable… it all makes sense. This is my homeland.” 

“Tell it to the beasts, Softy,” Adora laughed, making a grab for her, doubtless to try and give her a noogie. 

“Uh… guys?” called Bow from ahead of them, with a thread of concern. 

Adora inhaled sharply, immediately running for him. Catra tried not to preen over the fact that she’d apparently forgotten Bow existed while Catra was talking to her.

“What’s up, Arrow-Boy?” she drawled as she caught up to them, peering over the lip of a hollow. 

“There’s something down there,” said Bow, pointing to a strange, huddled creature in the center of a small clearing. It was small, dark aside from a huge eye that took up most of its face and practically glowed. “It doesn’t look… dangerous, but…” 

Catra’s eyes lingered on its forelegs, hooked and barbed like a praying mantis’s. She sniffed cautiously, trying to pick up its scent, but it was lost in the tangle of Beast Island reek. “What’s it doing?” she asked, quieter than she had been. It was just sitting there, head and massive eye angled towards them. 

“I dunno,” Bow murmured back. “It’s kind of cute, actually. Do you think maybe it’s hurt?”

“If it is, why hasn’t it been eaten yet?” Catra asked suspiciously. “It feels like a trap.” 

“Look at it, it’s teeny,” said Adora, like she disagreed. Catra turned to stare at her. 

“Remember when we were six and I ripped out Octavia’s fucking _eye?_ You don’t have to be enormous to do serious damage, _She-Ra.”_

Adora winced, smiling a little lopsided _good-point_ smile and inclining her head in surrender to Catra’s assessment. 

“I don’t want to just kill it, though,” said Bow. 

“We could just go around,” Adora pointed out. 

“What, and turn our backs on it? I don’t think so,” said Catra.

“If I hit it with a glue-arrow it’ll be a sitting duck!”

“It’s a sitting duck _now,”_ said Catra, rolling her eyes. “Look at it!”

“I’ve _been_ looking at it. It knows we’re here, but it hasn’t attacked,” said Bow. “It’s just… watching us.” 

They watched it for a few moments, evaluating. 

Something snapped behind them, softly enough that even Catra’s ears would have missed it if they’d still been talking. She whirled on her heel, unsheathing her claws, and saw--

Nothing. A shadowed forest, empty of leaves and enemies alike. 

She jolted slightly at a soft pressure on her elbow, but it was only Adora, soundlessly asking for an update. She knew better than to break the silence when Catra was on alert. 

“Heard something. Snapping twig, maybe,” she murmured. 

“Still think this is a trap?” asked Bow, matching her volume. He kept most of his body turned towards it, bow drawn and ready. 

Catra made a small noise of affirmation, training her senses on the path behind them. Still nothing she could smell, and the stupid _noise_ was still grating in her ears so loud it was a miracle she’d been able to pick out the first sound. 

Her eyes, unaffected by the dark and hypersensitive to movement, revealed little on the forest floor. The faint trail they’d left behind, nothing more substantial. 

Then she looked up. 

_“Fuck!”_ she hissed, springing back a step. “It’s a fucking ambush!” 

“What?” Adora asked, alarmed. 

“There’s like thirty of them in the trees, trying to get the drop on us!” 

“It was a distraction,” Bow groaned. 

“It was _bait,_ and we fucking feel for it,” Catra hissed. “Come on. Through the clearing.”

They followed her without complaint; Bow shot a glue-arrow at the creature in their way before it could attack, flinching when it opened its mouth to screech, revealing sharp fangs and gnashing mandibles.

“Okay maybe it could stand be a sitting duck!” he yelled, voice high and cracking slightly as he scrambled after Catra. 

_“We’re_ the sitting ducks!” she snapped, scanning the treeline for more of the strange, one-eyed animals. None that she could see, but the ones behind them were giving chase, fanning out around them. “How are your feelings doing, Adora?” 

Adora grumbled something unintelligible, raising the sword and yelling, “For the honor of Grayskull!” once again. 

Once again, nothing happened. 

“Son of a _bitch,”_ Catra groaned. “There has to be a better time and place for us to work on our fucking issues.”

“Less talking more running!” Bow shouted, shooting a pair of the creatures with a net arrow. 

“How else do you propose we resolve her little emotional crisis?” 

“It’s not a crisis!” Adora protested immediately. 

“I _said_ it was a little one!”

“Adora, you can’t transform,” said Bow. “That’s a crisis!”

“We don’t even know if it’s my feelings!” she yelled, ducking under a flying tackle. Catra pivoted, ricocheting off a tree to slam into the offending creature, dispatching it before it could do more than get its legs under itself. 

“Right, just like we don’t know if the spooky noise is what made me get all weepy and pathetic,” Catra snorted, springing forward to catch up to Bow again. 

“Maybe it’s the opposite, huh? Did you ever think of that?” Adora called after her, turning the sword into a staff to sweep in a low arc behind her, keeping the creatures at bay. “Maybe I’m the one the noise is messing with, and _you’re_ the one with the feelings!” 

“You couldn’t even hear it when you started having trouble transforming,” said Catra, rolling her eyes. She ran backwards for a few steps, easily keeping pace with Bow. 

“Uh, Catra? I can’t actually see where we’re going, could you--”

Bow broke off with a loud yelp that Catra barely registered before the ground dropped out from under her. Gasping, she flailed her claws for a grip on the side of what appeared to be a short cliff. 

“Bow!” she yelled over her shoulder. Adora came to a screeching halt at the top of the cliff. “Sound off if you’re not dead!” 

“I’m okay,” Bow called up, voice a little shaky. Catra relaxed slightly as she caught sight of him, nestled in a net he’d probably set up with his arrows. “You should be good to jump down, just don’t have your claws out!” 

“Great, because they’ve got us surrounded,” said Adora, backing slightly closer to the edge. 

“I hate this fucking island,” Catra muttered, kicking off the side of the cliff and into the open air. 

She landed a few seconds before Adora, bounced off the net as if it were a trampoline, and nearly ripped it into pieces as the instinct to find a foothold kicked in. As it was, she and Adora knocked shoulders rather painfully, but weren’t splattered on the ground beneath them, so Catra decided to call it a win. 

“Oh no,” said Bow, back on the forest floor below them. 

“What is it?” asked Adora, wriggling through one of the wider holes in the net and dropping into a crouch beside him. Catra stayed where she was, following his line of vision. 

There was a huge bug, half-wrapped in vines, staring straight at them. It rumbled menacingly as Adora landed, and Catra froze from her perch above them.

“Okay,” she breathed. “Shit. Uh, maybe it hasn’t seen us?” 

The bug roared, ripping free of its vines. It wasn’t like the other creatures of its kind that Catra had seen; it was half-dissolved, a slurry of organic material clutching at a technological exoskeleton, chitinous metal forming strange lines between its segments like the weird writing on First Ones’ tech. 

“Well, shit,” she said aloud, taking a moment to evaluate its movements as it charged them. 

Surprisingly agile, for something so huge. It was covered in bristling spines that glowed a vibrant turquoise, clacking against its back. They didn’t look sharp, but looks could be deceiving. Its mouth was full of fangs, and a pair of pincers gnashed at Adora as she darted forward, trying to draw its attention. 

“Hey!” Catra shouted, springing onto its back from her high ground and digging her claws in as deep as they’d go. It felt like those stupid spider-things in Adora’s crystal temple, like a cross between metal and bone. Good. That meant she could disable it the same way. 

An arrow exploded into a shower of goop, gluing its jaws shut. Catra reached for its eyes, claws extended, only to be ripped away when the bug bucked wildly, sending her sailing through the air. 

She landed heavily on her side and rolled, groaning as she staggered upright. Adora was between her and the fight, sword half-raised in front of her, muscles locked. 

“Is it just me, or is this thing bigger than usual?” Catra asked her as they charged into the fray side by side. 

“It definitely--oof!” The rest of Adora’s sentence was lost as she was sideswiped into a decaying piece of machinery hard enough to leave an indentation in the shape of her shoulders, slumping to the ground with a groan. 

Catra had barely a moment for outrage before the thing reared up on its hind legs, trying to body slam her. She gasped and dived for the ground, barely rolling clear in time. 

“I hate--this fucking--island!” she yelled, dodging a series of stomps from its many legs, raking her claws down its underbelly. 

She shrieked as it abruptly dropped to the ground, pinning her beneath its weight. 

“Catra!” 

“Hold on!” 

Which, great, sure, but there wasn’t any _time._ The bug was bearing down on her with its ungooped pincers, slavering with something that smelled like copper and blood, and she _refused_ to go out like this. 

She shrieked in its face, equal parts frustration and fury, curling one hand beneath its stomach with what mobility she still had, burrowing her claws into its plated hide. Too late. Too little. Too slow. 

_“Catra!”_

A blast of fire exploded against its head. 

The bug staggered off of her, and Catra was on her feet in an instant, springing away, dripping in ichorous fluid from the wound she’d managed to leave on its belly. 

Adora grabbed her by the waist, yanking her behind cover so fast her head spun. She patted Catra frantically from shoulders to wrists, checking for damage, her rigid posture only loosening slightly when she found none. Without a word, she slumped forward against Catra, pressing her face into her shoulder and taking deep, steadying breaths. 

Catra didn’t move for a moment, terrified of breaking whatever spell had Adora so close and so… honest. So willing to abandon the pretenses they usually layered on before they could touch like this. Hesitantly, she wrapped her hands around Adora, supporting her a little more firmly. Bow was shouting something, but he was also behind cover and didn’t sound like he was in pain, so Catra was beyond listening. 

“That was way too close,” Adora breathed into her collarbone, arms snaking around Catra. “That was way, way too close.” 

“I had it under control,” said Catra, smirking down at her. It was nice to be taller than her for once; Adora’s posture was usually impeccable. 

“Sure you did,” quipped Adora. But she started shaking her head as soon as the words were out of her mouth, drawing away from Catra’s shoulder but keeping her arms wrapped around her. “Sorry. I’m--it’s not that I don’t think you can do these things. I just…” 

“Yeah, yeah. I lived, dumbass,” said Catra, patting her on the back. “You can’t protect everyone from everything all the time.”

Adora didn’t say anything, glancing away as she shrugged in a small, defeated kind of way. She clearly wasn’t happy with the assessment, but at least she wasn’t arguing. 

“Uh, guys?” said Bow, sticking his head behind the clump Adora had dragged Catra behind for cover. “I think the elemental’s leaving.”

“Good riddance,” said Catra, shoving Adora off of her without preamble. “Thanks for the uh, save.” 

“That wasn’t me,” said Bow, with a shaky smile. “I think--Come and see.” 

They moved cautiously into the clearing, Adora holding the sword aloft even though it was useless, as a cloaked figure turned from the fleeing bug-thing, lowering his hood. 

“Hello!” he said brightly. “Welcome to Beast Island. Who are you?” 

“Uh,” said Catra. 

“Are--King Micah?” Bow asked hesitantly. 

“You look so different from your mural,” said Adora, squinting at him. 

“You know who I am?” asked the sorcerer. He looked surprised, but not shocked. Still welcoming, all cordial hospitality. Catra didn’t trust it. 

“We’re here to rescue you,” she told him flatly. “It’s a long story.” 

“How did you know I was here?” he asked, in that same tone of mild surprise. 

“There was some time travel involved,” said Adora, turning the sword back into a vambrace. “It’s been a really weird couple of days, even for us.” 

“We’re from Bright Moon, Your Majesty,” said Bow, smiling at him. “I’m Bow, this is Adora, and this is Catra.” 

“You’re from Bright Moon? What news?” asked Micah eagerly. “Have you seen Angella? How is she? How’s Glimmer?” 

“They’re, uh--they’re good!” said Adora. “They really miss you. Will you come back with us?” 

“Of course!” said Micah. He paused for a moment, suddenly frowning. He leaned forward, grabbing Bow’s face and pulling at his cheeks. “You are--you are _real,_ right?” 

“Ow,” said Bow. 

“Real as anything,” said Catra, edging slightly behind Adora in case he tried to do the same thing to her. “How long have you been on this island?” 

“Oh, I don’t know. Months. Years, probably. You’d know better than I would. Did I miss Glimmer’s birthday? Has she connected to the Moonstone yet?” asked Micah.

Adora and Bow glanced at each other, but Catra had no idea how long it’d been. All she knew was this guy hadn’t been a bot in their simulations as senior cadets, so it’d been almost a decade at the very least. 

“Depends, is that how she teleports and blasts people and stuff?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“She can _teleport?”_ asked Micah, visibly amazed. “That’s my baby girl! Please, I--When can we leave?” 

“Now, I guess,” said Catra. Adora and Bow were still being suspiciously quiet. It was a miracle Micah didn’t seem to be catching on, probably because of whatever living alone for all those years had done to his social skills. “She’s back on the boat.” 

She turned to leave, orienting herself by the direction the horrible noise was loudest.

A hand closed on her wrist and she whirled around, hissing. 

Micah blinked at her, releasing his hold immediately. 

“I--sorry,” he said after a moment. “I’m--you said she’s on the boat? Why would you bring her _here?_ She’s too young!” 

“It wasn’t my idea, believe me,” said Catra, baring her teeth. Her ears were ringing. She tried to get her pulse under control. It was fine. It wasn’t a threat. He was just trying to get her attention, if he wanted her dead he could have just blasted her with magic while her back was turned.

Why did she turn her _back_ on him? 

The noise suddenly picked up, and she winced, clapping her hands over her ears. 

“Uh oh,” said Micah. “You hear it.” 

“You can hear it too?” Adora asked anxiously. “What is it? How do we stop it?” 

“The signal,” he said grimly. “We can’t stop it. We need to move away; it wears down at you, eats away at your resolve. It’s trying to make you stay here forever.”

“Fat chance,” Catra growled, gritting her teeth. “I’ll tear this fucker down to bedrock and push it into the sea.” 

“Okay, we need to get her out, now,” Adora said sharply, reaching for her. Catra growled a little louder as her hand got nearer. Adora hesitated, but didn’t push it. “Catra, please. It’s making you feel this way, remember?” 

“No, Sparkles Senior over here is making me feel this way,” she hissed. “Playing innocent when he stopped that huge fucking bug all on his own, acting like he doesn’t know how long it’s been. Waiting until people turn their backs to strike, like a coward.” 

“Oh, this is rare,” said Micah, staring at her. 

“It doesn’t usually do this?” Bow asked anxiously, moving to stand between Catra and the center of the island, like he could herd her away from it. As if she were fucking cattle.

“Well, it works by chipping away at you,” he explained, “it exposes your vulnerabilities. Usually it’s--the people they send here, they don’t last long. They lose hope. It’s unusual for someone to get… angry.” 

“It’s not the noise,” Catra insisted. “I’m _fine._ Let’s _go.”_

But her feet wouldn’t move. She looked down to investigate and shrieked, ripping at the vines crawling up her calves with a fervor that clearly unnerved the others. 

“Catra!” Adora yelled, uselessly, trying to cut some away with her sword. 

“Get away from me!” she snapped, too focused on escape to swipe at her. “I don’t need your help!” 

“You’re getting it anyway!” Adora shouted back. “Bow, grab her!” 

He pinned her arms to her sides, wrapping her in a bear hug that lifted her clean off the ground so Adora could saw through the remaining vines. It was too much. She was too exposed. His arms _burned_ against her skin, and she could feel his breath on the back of her neck, one bite from snapping her spine like a rat’s. 

She started yelling, writhing against her prison, feet lashing out in blind, desperate kicks as Bow staggered under her weight, and everything was a chaotic mess of _pain_ and _fear_ and _anger._

“Let me go!” she yowled. “Let me go, I’ll fucking kill you!” 

“Catra, stop!” came Adora’s voice, from somewhere in the riotous swirl of colors and scents and sounds. “This isn’t you! It’s making you feel like this, it’s manipulating you!”

“I don’t care!” she yelled back, arching away from Bow’s chest, desperate to escape the pressure but unable to move. Her skin felt like it was sloughing off under his hands, exposing her, leaving her open, vulnerable, a raw nerve. It wasn’t safe. She had to get away. She could practically feel the shadows wrapping around her limbs, and the anticipation of a shock made her hackles rise. “It _hurts!”_

“Fuck--Bow, put her down, let her go--” 

She was lowered to the ground with more gentleness than she was expecting. The moment she was free, she swept her captor’s legs out from under them. 

“Catra!” 

Adora’s voice again. Where was she? Catra’s vision was narrow, blurry, like a flashlight had been shined in her eyes and her pupils were dilated wrong. There was a noise like a siren and a scream blaring in her ears, and her awareness was flickering at the edges. 

Catra couldn’t breathe right. It was too shallow, too fast, and she felt like she was back in Hordak’s sanctum, like the air was just being sucked out of her lungs. 

There was someone in front of her, but she couldn’t see them clearly. Couldn’t smell them over the reek of her own fear. She snarled as they advanced, baring her fangs. She couldn’t run, not like this, but she could put up a hell of a fight. She lashed out with her claws, rewarded by a sharp gasp and the tang of blood against the fear, a scent so familiar it was almost comforting. Her adversary stumbled back, hands raised and empty.

The figure crooned something she couldn’t hear over the roaring in her ears, crouching in front of her, making themselves small, submissive. Catra backed up another step, aware of her tail lashing behind her and her claws raised in front. 

A concession--a surrender. 

The figure laid on the ground, rolling onto their back, and Catra’s fur began to lie flat.

The anger drained out of her, but the sharp, buzzing energy didn’t. It welled up in her throat, her eyes, hot tears pricking as she flexed her claws, screwed up her face in something half-grimace and half-sneer. 

She dropped to her knees and _screamed_ , tearing at her hair. There was no one she could hurt, nothing to fight, but she _needed_ to destroy something, she had to give vent to this furnace roaring inside her chest or she’d _explode._

“Catra, stop!” yelped the figure on the ground before her, scrambling onto their knees. Her vision swam as hands bracketed her wrists, a blur of colors and shapes that could only belong to one person. 

She melted into Adora’s arms with a dry sob, burying her face against her shoulder. 

“It’s okay,” Adora soothed, rubbing her back almost frantically. “You’re safe, I promise, I won’t let anyone hurt you--” 

She croaked out a laugh, suddenly too exhausted to be bitter. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Adora.” 

Adora flinched as if she’d been struck, clutching Catra tighter to her chest. 

“I won’t,” she said, and Catra couldn’t tell if it was a response or if she was insisting. 

“I’m going--I’m going to get hurt,” said Catra, taking deep, steadying breaths. “There’s--we’re fighting in a war. It’s going to happen. And when it does, it won’t be your fault.”

Adora was shaking in her arms. Catra wasn’t sure who was holding whom anymore.

“I promised,” Adora whispered. “I promised I’d keep you safe.” 

“You _can’t.”_

Adora’s arms flexed around her shoulders for a moment before drawing back, eyes sharp and determined and… too blue. 

“Watch me,” she told Catra. Her intensity was almost palpable, pouring off of her like a scent. She pulled away, still kneeling, and pulled the sword from around her wrist until it was a blade again, raising it high between them. “For the honor of Grayskull!”

The magic washed over Catra like a beam of moonlight, warm and relaxing and familiar. The coil of dread and anxious energy in her stomach, which had felt so natural before, dissipated in the face of it like a shadow.

She laughed breathily, looking up to meet She-Ra’s gaze, raw resolve and protective wrath, like she was going to wrap Catra in her arms again and obliterate anything that got too close. 

“We’re going to get through this,” she told Catra, so firm it felt like an order. She stuck her hand out, waiting for Catra to take it. “You look out for me, and I look out for you.” 

Catra laughed again, because fuck, what else was she supposed to do? She’d lost her shit, again. She’d held them back, _again._ But Adora hadn’t given up on her yet. She took the hand. “Promise?” she asked shakily. 

“Promise.” 

She-Ra pulled her to her feet, and Catra blinked as she realized how _tall_ she was.

Like. 

Like really, really tall. 

She smirked down at Catra as if she could see the flush through her fur (she probably could, it felt like her face was on fire) but thankfully was interrupted before she could say anything. 

“I’m sorry, so, you’re _She-Ra?_ Like, legendary warrior She-Ra?” Micah asked incredulously. “And you know my family?”

“It’s kind of a long story,” said Bow. “Can we maybe catch you up on the way to the ship?” 

“I mean, I suppose,” said Micah, staring at her, unabashed. “You said Glimmer was there, right?” 

“Yes, and she’s very excited to see you,” said Catra, dropping She-Ra’s hand and sauntering towards him. “Also, unless you want a repeat of whatever the fuck _that_ was, don’t fucking touch me.” 

“Message received.”

“We had kind of a weird childhood,” She-Ra explained apologetically, following Catra. “You grew up on Mystacor, right?” 

Catra frowned at the apparent non sequitur, gesturing at Bow to point the way. The noise had faded away entirely in the magic of She-Ra’s transformation, and she was far too disoriented by her most recent ‘episode’ to find her way back reliably. 

“Yes, most of my life,” said Micah. “I left as a young adult. I felt we had a responsibility to stop the Horde, and Mystacor’s neutrality grated on me. It’s how I met Angella.” 

“So you’ve probably heard of a sorceress called Light Spinner?”

Micah stiffened, and Bow visibly winced. Catra looked between them in confusion; _she_ hadn’t grown up on Mystacor. Who the fuck was Light Spinner? 

“She… was my mentor, for a time,” said Micah, grimacing. “She told me I was powerful, that Mystacor was limiting my potential. I was young and headstrong, eager to learn more magic. It all felt like a game to me, learning in secret, rebelling against the establishment in little ways. I admired her.” 

“What happened?” asked Catra, raising an eyebrow. 

“She devised a plan to fight the Horde using a forbidden spell,” said Micah. “When it was rejected, she convinced me to help her. It… it was evil. I couldn’t go through with it, and broke the casting, but it was too late. It consumed her.” 

“So she’s dead?” asked Catra, looking to She-Ra. Her face was walled off, stony. She was thinking about something important, something upsetting, and she didn’t want anyone to be able to tell. Why bring her up at all, then? 

“No. It transformed her into a… a magical parasite, of sorts,” said Micah. “The others intervened at that point, but she was too strong for them. She murdered the head sorcerer, fed him to the darkness, and all I could do was watch.” 

Catra’s stomach dropped as understanding crawled up her spine. 

“It’s her,” Catra whispered, looking back at She-Ra. “Shadow Weaver.”

She-Ra nodded helplessly, and Catra felt a little more of her world unwind. She turned to Micah, searching, evaluating. Another Adora. A prototype, almost. Someone powerful that Shadow Weaver could mold into whatever she wanted. 

But he’d defied her, too, in the end. 

Was it only Catra that was so weak? So gullible? Was it because she’d never been powerful, never been worth wanting? 

“Shadow Weaver was Hordak’s second-in-command when Adora and Catra were in the Horde,” said Bow. “They were both raised by her.” 

Micah looked back at them with so much empathy and understanding that Catra’s fur bristled. “I’m so sorry,” he said softly.

“Yeah, well, so are we,” she growled. “Just don’t grab me like that again or I’ll gut you.” 

“That goes for you too, probably,” She-Ra told Bow, who looked like he’d just had a very depressing epiphany. “I know we kind of talked about it, but… only the things that applied to everyone in the Fright Zone. I’m sorry. To both of you. I shouldn’t have had you hold her.”

“You kind of had your hands full,” said Catra, making a face. “It’s not--that was worse than it usually is. Scorpia grabs me all the time.” 

“Well, she shouldn’t.”

“Jealous, princess?” asked Catra, snorting when that made her splutter defensively. “Relax. As long as I’m expecting it, it’s fine. That’s just how she is, you know?” 

“I mean, I really don’t,” said She-Ra, not quite grimacing but pinched around her mouth in a way that made Catra want to tease her mercilessly. 

“Arrow-Boy here’s been doing alright so far,” she said instead, not quite ready to jump back into that particular ring. “Or at least he _was,_ until _someone_ told him--”

“I said I was sorry!” 

“I’m sorry too, Catra,” said Bow, all wide-eyed sincerity. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, or to make you feel uncomfortable or anything, I just--”

“Just didn’t want me to get absorbed by fucking death-vines?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “Man, you hero-types are all the same, aren’t you? I assure you, I would rather be grabbed than _eaten.”_

“Wait,” said Micah, stopping dead in his tracks. “You girls--you’re practically adults.” 

“Uh, we _are_ adults,” said Catra, crossing her arms. 

“But if you were raised by Light Spinner, and she’d only been gone for--even if she picked you up the moment she got there, you’d only be twelve or thirteen, if… How long have I been gone?” 

She-Ra determinedly avoided his gaze, so Catra did the same. She couldn’t tell him, anyway; she didn’t know. 

“Your Majesty…” Bow said slowly, cautiously. “It’s been more than a few years. Glimmer is--she’s grown up. She’s a Commander in the Rebellion.” 

Micah recoiled as if he’d been struck, eyes filling with tears. Catra’s ears pinned against her head, uncomfortable with the open display of grief and weakness. 

“But…” he whispered, pushing his tangled hair back with one hand. “But I… no…” 

“She’s--she’s happy,” said She-Ra, still avoiding eye contact. “Queen Angella raised her really well. She has--a good heart, and she’s really brave.” 

“And I missed all of it,” said Micah, running the same hand over his face. “I got myself captured and I lost watching my baby girl grow up. I left Angella alone all this time--” 

“She wasn’t alone,” Bow insisted, taking Micah’s hand in a show of support. “She was never alone, she had Spinnerella and Netossa and Glimmer, and the rest of the Rebellion. Even when things--when things fell apart, she was never alone.”

“This really is real, isn’t it?” asked Micah, choking on a sob. “The hallucinations are never this--it’s real.” 

“Oh, it’s real,” said Catra, ears lifting as she saw a break in the darkness. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.” 

She took off without another word, pelting into the light, gulping down breaths of fresh sea air. They’d come out only a few hundred feet from the ship, which mercifully wasn’t on fire yet. 

“Ahoy!” Sea Hawk bellowed across the distance, waving his arms over his head. 

Catra raised her arm in a not-quite-wave, turning back to watch She-Ra emerge from the shadows, Bow and Micah hot on her heels. 

Glimmer teleported to Catra’s side in a burst of magic, freezing when she followed her line of sight. 

“I…” said Micah, staring at her with wide eyes, letting a chuckling Bow lead him nearer. 

“Hey, Dad,” said Glimmer, with a watery smile. 

“Glimmer, you’re--I’m--look at you--” 

They collapsed into each other’s arms, immediately sobbing. Catra looked away again, just in time to watch She-Ra fade back into Adora. She was watching the reunion with something almost wistful, joyous and bereft all at once. Catra sidled up to her while her attention was diverted, knocking their shoulders together. Adora glanced down at her. 

“What, you don’t want parents now, do you?” teased Catra.

“I don’t need ‘em,” said Adora, slinging an arm around her neck. “I already got my family back.” 

“Ugh, you’re such a _sap,”_ Catra groaned, making absolutely no effort to escape the loose headlock. “What’re the rest of the squad, chopped liver?” 

“Yep!” said Adora, grinning at her. “We’ll get them too, anyway. And Entrapta. We’re gonna save _everyone.”_

Catra snorted, rolling her eyes. “ _Everyone_ everyone? Even Hordak?” 

Adora made a face, clearly still sour about their most recent battle. “Okay, maybe only almost everyone.” 

“Octavia?” 

“Eurgh. Okay, _most_ people. We’re going to save _most_ people.” 

“Please,” Catra laughed, trapping Adora in a headlock of her own and messing up her stupid hair pouf. “If you’ll save Shadow Weaver, you’ll save anybody. We’re going to have to save the whole fucking planet.” 

“Well don’t sound so enthusiastic about it,” snarked Adora, escaping the headlock by leveraging her own to pin Catra against her side. “People might think you actually care about something.” 

“The horror!” said Catra, slipping free with a cackle. She circled Adora with a toothy grin, looking for openings. “Obviously I don’t care about anything, or anyone, and am here _exclusively_ because old-me said the Horde loses.” 

“Obviously,” agreed Adora, grinning back at her. “That’s why you get married and have adorable little babies that you _clearly_ don’t love at _all.”_

Catra threw her hands up dramatically. “Can I help it if a perfect physical specimen such as myself can produce only the cutest possible offspring? They won the genetic lottery, Adora. They’re _engineered_ to be lovable.” 

“And we’re gonna see them again one day,” said Adora. She was beaming again, that wide, optimistic smile free of any worry at all. “So we’ve gotta make Etheria the world they deserve to live in. Right?” 

Catra’s grin softened, watching the early evening light glow as it hit the edges of Adora’s hair, tracing the conviction in her smile and the fondness in her eyes. No, this Adora didn’t love her--but one day, maybe she could. “Right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they're idiots, your honor.  
> sorry about the delay with this chapter! i ended up rewriting most of it after i nixed an earlier "catra goes apeshit" scene in chapter 5, but i was having trouble with the action sequences until I threw in a pooka encounter. almost got sucked into a lore-hole waxing poetic about púca but i managed to restrain myself this time. 
> 
> Next fic is gonna be a little shorter, maybe 2-4 chapters? & from Adora's perspective. sticking with this "write, then edit, then post" thing bc believe me, the raw shit is uh. incomprehensible. Thank you so so much to everyone for the comments & kudos & just being so gd supportive, i deadass read through old comments to cheer myself up when the quarantine blues set in. you're all fucking delightful & i appreciate you so much


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